Transformers Prime: Stardust
by luinrina
Summary: It's one thing to leave Cybertron to hunt for the AllSpark and end up having to save the homeworld of a primitive organic lifeform from Decepticon dominance. It's another story entirely when being thrust into the heat of battle when your enemies are giant robots from outer space and the fight is about your planet's survival.
1. Line-up

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the recognized characters and settings – which is basically everything. The plot, however, is my own brainchild. I do not write for money, only for fun. No copyright infringement is intended.

Some part of the dialogue is taken directly from _Transformers: Prime_, season 2, episode 25 _Regeneration_. Not mine, don't sue.

**Spoiler Warning:** The first chapters will cover the last two episodes of the _Transformers: Prime_ show. If you haven't seen them yet and do not want to be spoiled, press the back button.

**Author Note:** After finishing _Exiles _from Alex Irvine, I wondered what happened to the rest of the Autobots aboard the _Ark_. They never got mentioned in the show, although the novels and Transformers: Prime are supposed to be the same continuity. Therefore – especially after that dramatic season two finale of the show – my muse and I started working on combining them both.

There will be quite some G1 and movieverse influences.

This story was also greatly inspired by _Fate is a Cruel Mistress_ by brohne. I can only recommend reading it.

Last but not least a short legend on Cybertronian time measures I use:

vorn = Cybertronian year - approx. 83 human years  
orn = Cybertronian day - approx. 6.5 human days  
joor = Cybertronian hour - approx. 6.5 human hours  
breem = Cybertronian minute - approx. 8.3 human minutes

Enough waffling, on we go. Enjoy. :)

* * *

– chapter one –

**Line-up**

It had been a long day – at least, that was the impression Jack had. It wasn't even mid-afternoon yet, but he was exhausted. School had been trying; two tests, a difficult experiment in physics, and endurance run in PE. Thank God there was no homework. He was looking forward to hanging out with Arcee and just relax.

He met his friends and co-conspirators at the front door. Raf was leaning against the stony banister and Miko lounged on it, looking rather bored. Jack met Raf's eyes, asking silently why they were still here; both their classes had been out earlier than his so they should have been fetched quite some time ago. That they were still here was… troubling.

Deciding to try for casual, Jack walked over and asked, "You didn't have to wait for me, guys."

Raf opened his mouth to answer but Miko was faster. "We wouldn't but had no other choice." She got up and jumped off the banister to land lightly next to him. Standing straight and turning toward him, she said, "We've been stood up."

"Eh…" Jack looked at Raf for a better explanation and the younger boy gave it freely.

"None of the bots has yet shown up."

Miko walked away, only to sit down on the stairs. She huffed in annoyance. Deciding to soothe her by giving her company, Jack sat down next to her, settling in for a wait.

Half an hour came and went, and they were still sitting on the front stairs. All their peers had long since left the school; even a few of the teachers had walked by them. They had received curious glances, and Raf's English teacher had even asked if everything was all right. "Thanks, we're okay. Don't worry, Ms. Brink. We're just waiting for a friend to pick us up who probably just lost track of time. They'll be here shortly." She didn't seem quite convinced but left them to their own devices.

Another half hour went by and there still was no bot in sight. Miko sighed deeply and put her elbows onto her knees to prop her chin into her hands. "What's taking them so long?" she complained.

While Jack shrugged, Raf said diplomatically, "Maybe they got stuck in traffic."

She snorted. "As if Bulk would allow that." She was in a crappy mood, that much was obvious. Not a moment later, she got up with a huff, walked over to the stone banister and gave it a hard kick. She winced which made her only angrier. She jumped back onto the stone banister and stomped on it.

To avoid Miko maybe attack them in her frustration, Jack pulled out his cell and dialed up Arcee. The call never got through; his display said the callee was unavailable. "Huh," he muttered while choosing the base next. To his relief, there was a ring. He was immediately picked up.

"_Optimus?"_ Ratchet's voice came out of the speaker. He sounded hopeful even though a little tense.

"Eh, uh, no, Ratchet, it's Jack," he said before starting to ponder over why Ratchet addressed him with the Autobots' leaders name. There was no need for the medic to assume it was Optimus who called unless… "Is something wrong?" he asked. "'Cause school's been up for almost an hour and no one showed to pick us up." If the bots were out on a mission, they would of course be unable to fetch them from school.

Confirming his thoughts, Ratchet replied, _"That is because the entire team is rather… indisposed at the moment."_ He sounded a little hesitant. _"I suggest you obtain an alternate method of transport."_

Miko was getting sick of waiting. She jumped back off the banister and, getting into his personal space, asked, "What's he saying?" without bothering to tone it down.

Jack tried to lay her off. "Eh, the bots are busy."

She of course was having none of being getting rid of. "Then tell _Ratchet_ to come get us. It's not like he has anything else to do!" she said loudly enough so that the medic most likely heard her on the other end of the line.

When the bot replied, he sounded crabby._ "Just go home. I'll be in touch later."_ The line fell dead.

"Eh, hello?" Jack asked, surprised. When no answer came, he pulled the cell away from his ear with a sigh. So Ratchet had indeed heard her. "He hung up," he told the other two. _He's probably disgruntled at Miko's attitude_, Jack thought. _I'd be too if it were me she spoke about like that._

The girl in question seemed oblivious that she had hurt the medic. "What crawled up his tailpipe and diode?"

Ignoring her, Raf asked him, "Did Ratchet tell you what's going on?"

"No," was the only reply he could give. Darkly, he added, "They seem to be keeping us in the dark a lot lately." And whilst he could understand that there were some things they better not knew, it still hurt that their friends would willingly not share information.

Miko grumbled and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Great, and now?"

Putting away his cell and grabbing his school bag, Jack stood. "Guess we have to walk home. It's too far to get to the base on our own." Raf nodded and stood too, but Miko kept arguing.

"We can't just walk away like that. What if they do come here and not find us waiting for them? They'll worry."

Raf turned toward her and asked, "Don't you think that if they could, they would have shown up by now?" From his tone it was obvious he worried about his friends as much as Jack and Miko but was trying to not show it.

Finally, even Miko had to admit defeat. "Great," she muttered and sighed. She then fell into brooding silence.

Since they all lived in the same approximate direction from school, they set off together toward home. Raf and Jack walked side by side without speaking, and Miko trotted after them. That the boys didn't speak with each other was nothing bothersome, but Miko's continued silence worried Jack. For her to keep her mouth shut this long, something was wrong. He was about to turn around and ask what her problem was when he heard a car approaching. He halted. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Raf stop too, looking up hopefully; the sound of the engine was the one of a racer. Maybe Bumblebee had made it at last.

Instead of their friend, it was a silver and red sports car careening around the corner before heading right for them – without giving any sign of slowing down. "What the –?" Jack muttered before grabbing Raf and pulling him backward. They stumbled into Miko, but before she could start ranting, the familiar sound of transformation reached their ears.

They stared up at the Decepticon medic in surprise.

"Hello, hello," Knockout purred, "who do we have here?" He crouched down and reached for them.

Spinning around, Jack shouted, "Run!" But they were never even able to take a single step forward.

Because directly in front of them towered Soundwave's silent form. They hadn't even heard his approach. Before Jack could form a coherent thought, Megatron's communication officer reached out and grabbed him. Miko started screaming, the tone pitching higher still when she too was grabbed. Raf tried running but was picked up by Knockout unceremoniously. He didn't go without a fight; he boxed at the fingers holding him.

Narrowing the red optics, Knockout demanded, "Stop making such a ruckus!" and proceeded to shake the hand holding Raf up and down. Miko screamed again, in horror, while Raf started to look sick.

To his surprise, Soundwave stopped the medic; one of his tentacles slung itself around the wrist and arm, preventing further movement. Knockout glared up at the silent mech, but retaliation was delayed when a groundbridge opened next to them. Soundwave let go of the medic and, without a backward glance, stepped into the groundbridge, not waiting for the other to follow.

Before they arrived at the other end, Jack locked eyes with Miko; they were both scared, though he could still detect defiance radiating from her. Not a moment later, when she obviously overcame the first shock, she started to loudly cuss them out with things like "Let go, you overgrown rust bucket" or "Are you so weak that you have to take it out on children?" Jack marveled at the girl's tenaciousness but also feared for her safety if the 'cons decided she wasn't worth it.

As if to prove him true, the Decepticon medic appeared at Soundwave's side and peered down at the girl. "Quite a foul mouth you have," he said and reached out with a finger to tap her on the head. "What bad manners that brute taught you."

Growling at him, Miko spit back, "Just you wait. Bulk will hand you your aft."

Grinning, Knockout replied, "That I'll have to see."

Their conversation was cut short when they arrived aboard the Decepticon warship – because where else would the bridge lead? Soundwave and Knockout met up with Starscream who had been waiting for them. "Do you have them?" he asked his comrades.

"It was easy," Knockout said and held out his fist with Raf. Soundwave didn't reply, only held his arms out, presenting Jack and Miko.

The Seeker smirked predatorily. "So we meet again," he said ominously before stepping aside and giving way to what looked like three gas tanks, only made out of glass. Soundwave and Knockout walked over and immediately dumped them into those, each within one tank. Miko of course didn't go silently, lashing out with the most insulting curses she could come up with. Starscream was only laughing, enjoying her fury and baiting her even more. When he eventually said, "Now you truly look like the pets you are," his smirk was still in place. He gestured at Knockout to seal the tanks; the caps came with handles. Before Jack could speculate why that was – or what the Decepticons wanted with them –, his tank was picked up by the Seeker, answering him all questions before they even arose.

Their way led down a long hallway before ending on the top deck. Jack's eyes widened in surprise when he realized they were in outer space – and that the _Nemesis_ was stationary next to the spacebridge orbiting the moon. It was already activated, and the three Decepticons walked toward it. For a moment Jack wondered how a non-flyer like Knockout would cross the distance, but when the three 'cons arrived at the deck's end, he saw they only needed to jump and would land on the spacebridge construction's edge. They then did just that –

– and almost instantly arrived on the planet Jack had secretly been dying to visit again, though never again under dire circumstances.

* * *

Head bobbing rhythmically to a beat only he could hear, Jazz lounged on the chair. He had his pedes propped up on the console and the chair tipped back on its back legs. His arms were crossed behind his head. Monitor duty was a dull task, but with a little music, it was much more agreeable. At least in Jazz's view. There was one bot who didn't share his sentiments at all and forbade any form of 'distraction' during shifts, giving Jazz the impression he was aiming to offline the saboteur from boredom. Thank Primus it was the graveyard shift and the bot in question was in recharge, which meant he was unable to berate Jazz for not following orders.

When the door to the command center swished open, Jazz didn't bother scanning for the spark signature. He knew it was just Sideswipe coming to relieve him from his shift. The frontliner was a couple of breems too early which was practically unheard of, but Jazz didn't spend another bit of processor power on the thought.

He should have bothered because when the other bot suddenly said, "You call that monitor duty?" Jazz jumped, startled, making the chair topple backwards and loudly crash onto the command center's deck.

Groaning, Jazz untangled himself from the chair before looking up at the bot standing over him. "Hiya, Prowler," he then greeted his commanding officer with a sheepish smile.

Prowl wasn't amused. "How often do have I to tell you to not call me 'Prowler'?" he asked flatly.

Jazz shrugged, moved into a sitting position and dusted his shoulderplates off. When he looked up again at the white-and-black Praxian, he said, "Shouldn't ya be in recharge? It's way ta early for ya ta be here."

"Having now seen how you spend your shifts of monitor duty, ignoring my orders, I'm glad I couldn't cycle down and came here instead."

Acting a hurt expression, Jazz replied, "Ya wound meh."

"Not my problem," was the immediate comeback before the tactician walked over to the communications console. They were waiting for a message from their Prime and his team, but so far, none had come. However, Prowl didn't seem to be looking at the message relay. His optics were narrowed while he stared off toward the radar.

Pursing his mouthplates, Jazz quit fooling around and stood up. He could read the tactician like no other, and from what he saw he knew the bot was all tense. "What is it?" he asked.

Prowl pointed at the sensor console without looking in his direction. "Run a deep-range sensor scan," he said.

Walking over to where he was directed, he asked, "Care ta tell meh why?"

"Just do it."

Venting a sigh, Jazz set to work. He would pry answers out of Prowl later. Right now, he had a job to do. He connected to the systems that immediately flared to live and powered them up quickly. He pulled up the proper protocols and then set the sensors loose. It didn't even take two breems before the results came back in. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except –

"Ya knew it, didn't ya?" Jazz asked, staring in surprise at the screen displaying the high energy reading the sensors had recorded. When he looked up, he met the intense stare of the tactician right in front of him. He hadn't even noticed Prowl leaving the communications console and walking over to him.

The Praxian nodded. "Let's say I… had a hunch." He pointed toward the screen displaying the scan results before Jazz could comment. "How far?"

Jazz angulated their position and let Teletraan-1 do the rest of the math. "One quadrant over," he eventually said. "A star system on the outer Orion Spur. We should be able ta cross the distance in hyperspace in less than half a joor." Suddenly realizing something, he stiffened, his head snapping up. "That's where Prime went with his team," he croaked.

Prowl remained silent for a moment, staring out of the bridge's front window, then nodded. "Yes. And I believe they are in need of help."

"But we never received any message! For all we know we walk right into a trap of the pirates. It could be their active spacebridge we detected."

His expression hardening with resolve, Prowl replied, "I know. Still, it's our duty to check it out. If something happened to Prime and the others, we'd be foolish to not back them up when they need it most." He paused, as if waiting for Jazz to shoot off a comeback, but the smaller bot didn't know what to say in response. Prowl therefore continued, "I want all hands on deck immediately. We have a new mission."

Jazz ambled over to the communications console, but before he punched the button to alert the crew, he asked, "What if it's not the pirates' spacebridge and they're still behind us? They will follow us before long."

"We'll deal with them once it comes to it. Now wake the others."

It was a testimony to their effectiveness: only five breems after Jazz woke them all, everybot was at their designated station and briefed about their new mission. Before long, the _Ark_'s powerful engines rumbled to life and the ship started to move forward, away from the ice planet they had orbited the last three solar cycles. Prowl stood in the middle of the command center and issued orders that were immediately followed.

Jazz in the meantime did what he did best: keeping out of Prowl's line of sight. He worked on mission plans on how to best help Prime and his team. If only he knew how to factor in an active spacebridge – especially when not knowing who controlled it.

"Now's a good time for that hyperspace engine to properly function, Perce," Sideswipe suddenly muttered, sounding tense, pulling Jazz out of his musings.

"Have a little faith in him," Blaster said cheerfully from where he sat at the radar console. "He's the best."

Despite his efforts to stay out of sight, Prowl always seemed to know where Jazz was and what he was doing. The tactician joined him before long and murmured, "You might need these scenarios for your plans." He lightly held out his arm, the cover for the hardline connector already removed.

Jazz didn't hesitate; he pulled out a cable and plugged in, swiftly downloading what simulations the other bot's battle computer had come up with before disconnecting them again. The data he integrated smoothly fell into place with the plans he had so far devised, but Jazz saw things a little clearer now and relaxed a little. He nodded at Prowl who then said to the command center at large, "Prepare for hyperspace."


	2. The Pieces Are Set

**Spoiler Warning:** The first half of this chapter, especially the dialogue, is directly taken from _Transformers: Prime_, season 2, episode 26 _Our Darkest Hour_. It's not mine so please don't sue.

**Author Note:** Many thanks for the lovely feedback. If you leave signed reviews, I'll answer them all.

As asked, here's more. ;) Enjoy!

* * *

– chapter two –

**The Pieces Are Set**

The first Jack saw when they exited the spacebridge was a large… construction. There was what appeared to be a large ring of blue light, held up in the air by four massive… pillars of sorts. Light also came from seams within these pillars as well as from lines on the ground. The entire scene had an air of like some kind of shrine, with the pool of light forming the holy center.

Was that shrine part of restoring Cybertron? So the Autobots had gone on the mission without needing to alert them. Jack became angry; so much to being friends. Friends didn't keep each other in the dark about things, especially not if they held that much emotional value.

When he then registered the expressions of the Autobots, he immediately felt guilty; they ranged from surprise over shock to defiance and hatred for the Decepticons. He gulped when focusing on Optimus. He stood across from Megatron, the Star Saber held tightly in his hands. His optics flitted from one tank to the other. Jack wouldn't call himself an expert in reading the Prime, especially not his thoughts, but right now it felt as if he could hear them loudly and clearly:

Optimus was pondering over how to save them without endangering their quest to restore Cybertron.

His heart twisted painfully and Jack hung his head. He had failed Optimus and his friends. He should have been more on guard and never let himself get caught. But he felt especially guilty for having thought even for one moment that the Autobots didn't give much about Raf, Miko and him. As if they really needed to prove how much they valued the three of them, he thought bitterly, ashamed at himself.

When Optimus eventually spoke, his tone was guarded. "And if we refuse?"

Megatron walked forward to Optimus. Getting into his personal space, he said, "Then I will have no choice but to open the pods, exposing your pets to Cybertron's toxic atmosphere." Whatever else the Decepticon warlord was saying went lost on him when his tank was moved upward. Twisting around, Jack met the still smirking red optics of Starscream.

Deciding to ignore the Seeker, Jack turned to look at Raf and Miko. The former stared back at him with eyes wide in fear, though from his expression Jack thought Raf tried to put on a brave front. Miko, on the other hand, seemed as defiant as ever, even though he could detect a feeble glint of fear in her body language. As if proving him wrong, she suddenly kicked against her tank.

His attention was pulled back to the 'con holding him when Starscream moved his tank once more and said in a singsong voice, "Ja-ack, it's time to come out and pla-ay." He lifted his talons and scraped them against the glass, the sound causing Goosebumps to crawl all over Jack's skin.

Once the sound was gone, Jack snarled at him, "Go ahead. The Autobots were prepared to sacrifice themselves for my planet. I'll do the same for theirs." If that was his only chance to redeem himself, he would gladly do it. He didn't hear what Miko and Raf had to say to that, but he caught Megatron's response.

"Perhaps we should oblige them."

Well, if that how his life would end, he would bear it like a man. However, before Starscream could open his pod, Optimus spoke again. "If my decision dooms the future of the Autobot cause on Cybertron, so be it. But I will never forsake our human allies." Then he straightened out of his defensive stance and rammed the Star Saber into the ground before taking a couple of steps back until he was in line with the other Autobots. They looked at him, unsure of how to proceed, before meeting each other's gazes. Then they threw away their relics.

Megatron's voice was silky when he ordered, "Now, if you please, the Omega Keys. One at a time."

Knockout was the first to step up, holding out Miko's pod. Bulkhead hesitated, seeking guidance from Optimus who nodded. With a pained yet defiant expression, he then walked forward, meeting Knockout and exchanging his key for the pod. When both bots parted, Miko turned around and said something, but across the distance Jack couldn't hear her.

Next was Raf. Bumblebee's angry beeping at Soundwave was clearly audible, but he too handed over his key for Raf's pod. The younger boy relaxed visibly once in the care of his guardian.

Suddenly Jack realized that the Autobots were still in possession of two keys while the Decepticons had only him left to trade. Hope swelled within him; maybe Optimus already had a plan of how to overthrow them once Jack was safely with them. However, as if being able to read his very thoughts, Megatron addressed Optimus while gesturing at his pod, "If this human was important enough to entrust with the Key to Vector Sigma, he's worth two Omega Keys."

"Scrap," Jack mumbled quietly to himself. There went his hope of a possible way out of the dire situation.

He watched with trepidation when Arcee and Smokescreen stepped forward and met Starscream halfway. The Decepticon set his pod down and said, "No tricks!" while aiming his missiles at them. When neither Arcee nor Smokescreen attempted to deceive him, he held open his hands and demanded, "The Keys if you please."

After the exchange, Arcee bent down, ready to pick up his pod, but before she so much as could meet his gaze, another bridge opened. Vehicons came running toward them, surrounding the Autobots. Arcee swiftly picked up Jack's pod, not caring about him for a moment. The tank was momentarily held almost horizontal, leaving Jack being thrown against the glass. Once Arcee closed ranks with the other Autobots, she put the pod down and he could stand up again, but the little excitement had left his world spinning.

As soon as he was certain he could no longer feel the planet's rotation, Jack looked up to assess their situation. He couldn't do much though; he was still caught within the pod after all.

They were surrounded by Vehicons. With them standing in the line of direct sight, Jack couldn't see much of what was happening, lest of all hear what was said. He therefore turned a little to watch Optimus' expression, wondering what he was going to do now. Just stand by and watch? That was hardly how he thought the Autobots would leave things.

A beam from the pool of light coming from overhead suddenly fired off into the distance, catching all their attention. Nearly out of range of sight, the beam hit a destroyed building. Jack witnessed large pieces of metallic rubble float off the ground, as if they were suddenly weightless, before reattaching to the building's ruin. The area was engulfed in a sphere of pure light, and when it faded, a large, obviously newly constructed structure stood where moments ago there had only been ruins.

Somewhere above him, he heard Optimus murmur, "By the AllSpark," while Miko exclaimed with awed surprise, "Oh, wow. Instant whole makeover."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Jack saw Optimus turn toward the leader of the Decepticons. "You have what you want, Megatron. This conflict is between Autobots and Decepticons. Allow me to return the humans to Earth."

Silence settled over them so that Megatron's words rang loud and clear:

"Oh, I wouldn't recommend it. They'll be far safer here." He turned to the Seeker. "Is the spacebridge locked on target?"

Starscream bowed. "Per your instructions, Lord Megatron."

"Excellent." Meeting Optimus' gaze, Megatron laughed lowly and ominously said, "Why rule only one world, when I can rule two."

Jack met Miko's eyes; from her expression he had the impression her thoughts echoed what went through his mind. But had they really heard that correctly, that Megatron planned to overthrow their homeworld? He couldn't attack Earth from Cybertron, could he?

Proving them very wrong, a bridge suddenly opened above the overhead pool of light. Megatron turned around to the console, and not a moment later, a massive beam fired off into the bridge portal. Jack barely heard Optimus' uttered "No," his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. _No, that can't be happening_, he told himself over and over again, like a mantra.

He looked at his friends and met Raf's eyes, just when Miko asked with a wavering voice, "If the Omega Lock can restore Cybertron, it'll do the same to Earth, right?" She voiced aloud what Jack was desperately hoping, that they had only misunderstood the Decepticon warlord.

"No," Optimus answered gravely. All the kids' faces fell, their hopes plummeting. "It will cyberform your planet in favor of its new matrix, destroying all indigenous life in the process."

Jack felt as if someone had pulled out the ground from under his feet. His planet destroyed? No, that couldn't happen. He swiveled around, in time to see Megatron laugh. "Such raw power," the Decepticon warlord said. "What shall I call my new domain, New Kaon? Or perhaps Guilded Earth?" His red optics fell onto the Autobots.

Hammering against his pod's glass, Jack shouted, "No!"

Miko joined him. "Leave our planet alone!" she demanded.

But none of the Decepticons moved to end the destruction of Earth. With trepidation Jack suddenly realized his mother would die too. Sierra. All the people he knew. He wanted to help them, but couldn't. He banged against his pod again.

When Megatron started laughing maniacally, things happened very fast. Optimus suddenly freed himself from the Vehicon surrounding and ran toward where the Star Saber stuck in the ground. He pulled it out and in the same move disabled three attacking Vehicons. Megatron unsheathed his own sword and met Optimus head on, but Prime blocked the attack. Using the Decepticon warlord's moment of weakness, he struck him, hacking off an arm. Not halting to finish Megatron off, Optimus continued on toward the Omega Lock. Starscream tried thwarting him, unsuccessfully. Jack could then no longer watch what was happening as Arcee grabbed his pod and turned around, blocking his view with her body. He knew why the very next instant when behind her, everything blew up in a blinding fireball. Jack ducked out of instinct, pressing his eyes shut.

When the light had somewhat receded, Jack hesitantly opened his eyes again, just in time to see Arcee moving. She stood up, giving way for him to survey the scene.

The place lay devastated. The overhead pool of light was gone, as were the four pillars that had supported it. Vehicons lay mangled and burned around them. Close-by, Bumblebee and Bulkhead stood up from their crouches over the pods of Raf and Miko respectively. Smokescreen surveyed the scene with critical optics. Only Optimus was missing.

Before Jack could ask Arcee whether or not Optimus had made it, the bot in question walked out of the smoke and toward then. Another portal opened behind them in just that moment, and without hesitation, Arcee grabbed his pod and ran for the bridge.

* * *

The first they noticed when dropping out of hyperspace was a seemingly bombed out surface filling their view from much too close. He heard Prowl immediately issue orders to have the backward thrusters be activated to bring some distance between the _Ark_ and the world they nearly collided with. Jazz in the meantime shook his helm before holding it steady until his equilibrium had settled. "Woah, what a ride," he muttered before looking up. He shuttered his optics twice in obvious surprise and then he exclaimed giddily, "Primus, Perce actually did it!"

Confused and with narrowed optics, Prowl asked him, "You know where we are?"

Grinning widely, he nodded. "Yep. Took the time ta study the local neighborhood before we jumped into hyperspace." Pointing out the command center's window, he said, "That's the moon orbiting the planet Prime an' the others went ta."

"I see." Prowl looked back out of the window, and following the tactician's gaze, Jazz noticed a massive object orbiting the moon not too far ahead. He asked Blaster to zoom in on it.

When the object got displayed in detail on the main screen, the vents of every bot at the command center stalled. "By the AllSpark," Silverbolt muttered. "Is that –?"

"A spacebridge, yes," Prowl said darkly.

"I thought you didn't possess the technology to build one," Clocker said. Jazz heard the struggle of the Velocitronian to keep his voice clear of accusations, but the mech didn't quite succeed.

"We don't," he answered tersely before anyone else could, feeling tense; his usual laissez-faire attitude was gone. "If this planet is orbited by a spacebridge, there's only one reason why: Decepticons."

Silence settled over the command center while the revelation sank in. It was broken when Silverbolt cleared his vents and said, "That's what I actually meant." He pointed toward the screen.

There, in all its dark glory, directly in front of the spacebridge, hovered the _Nemesis_.

Prowl immediately barked, "Evasive maneuvers. We need to get out of their line of fire." The engines rumbled to life and the _Ark_ backed away. They brought the moon in-between themselves and the _Nemesis_, using it as momentary cover.

"Do you think they noticed us?" Clocker asked. He sounded a little nervous.

Jazz shrugged, keeping an optic on the sensor readouts. "Hard to say. Guess we'll find out when they power up their weapons." The bots waited in tense silence for several breems, Silverbolt keeping the weapons systems ready to be activated with an astrosecond's notice, but everything remained silent. Nothing suggested they had been seen, so they could slowly relax a little.

"With the Decepticons here, it's understandable why we never received a message from Optimus," Blaster eventually said into the continuing silence, breaking it. "I bet Soundwave manipulated or at least oversaw all frequencies, intercepting the messages before they could leave the planet."

"Possibly," Prowl agreed. "Good thing we're here now." He looked at Blaster. "Can you locate our team's signals?"

Grinning, the red communications expert swiveled around to the radar, his fingers dancing in the air. "Let me work my magic, sir, and we'll be with them in no time." Then he set to work without another word.

"Good. Let me know once you have them." Nodding in obvious satisfaction, Prowl turned to Sideswipe. "See if you can find a flight path that won't be picked up by the Decepticons immediately. It appears we still have the element of surprise on our side and should use it."

"Will do, boss," was the cocky reply.

Narrowing his optics but refraining from rebuking the frontline warrior right now, Prowl turned toward Jazz. "I want a team to get ready for ground support. Grab whatever weapons you need."

Grinning excitedly at the immediate outlook of action, Jazz mock-saluted him before gesturing to Silverbolt to follow him. However, before they could actually leave, the space in front of the command bridge's screen suddenly exploded in a burst of light. The ship sensors went haywire and the sirens flared to life, their noise deafening. Shouts of surprise and alarm rang through the room. Jazz jumped at the sensor console and, going over the readouts, shouted over the ruckus, "Massive energy surge, and it's coming directly from the 'cons' spacebridge!"

"Power up all weapons immediately!" Prowl ordered and hurried to Jazz's side. The saboteur showed him the readout which let the tactician's faceplate darken. "What in Primus' name is that?"

Clocker suddenly said, "It seems that beam is directed at the planet."

"Yeah, but why? And where's it coming from?" Sideswipe asked.

Prowl straightened up. "Doesn't matter. Stay alert and be prepared for an attack."

Which never came. The energy beam cut off after some moments and the _Ark_'s sirens silenced again soon after. Neither did the radar show any signs of the Decepticons' approach. Nonetheless, no bot dared moving. The only motions were Blaster's swiftly moving fingers on the console. "Any results?" Jazz asked him, if only to break the tense silence.

The communications expert shook his helm. "No. It's like it's jinxed. No matter how much I broaden the sensors or how often I scan the planet's surface, I can pick up only one Autobot signal, and it's moving around fast – like it's flying." He turned around. "However, there were no Aerials in Prime's team."

"What in Primus' name happened here?" Prowl wondered.

The door to the command bridge swished open and closed again, drawing everyone's attention. "The more important question is," Perceptor said, "what's going to happen to this planet?" He pointed out the front window toward where, in the distance, a gigantic building of definite Cybertronian design was clearly visible.

* * *

**Note:** I realize that Megatron actually said "If this human was important enough to entrust with the Matrix of Leadership, he's worth two Omega Keys" in the show, but I checked again with the beginning of season two. Jack never had the Matrix of Leadership in his possession, only the Key to Vector Sigma onto which he downloaded the collected wisdom of the Primes which was then transferred back to the Matrix of Leadership, thus restoring Optimus' memories. I therefore suppose it was only a mistake in the dialogue and changed "Matrix of Leadership" to "Key to Vector Sigma".


	3. Divide and Conquer

**Spoiler Warning:** The first half of this chapter, especially the dialogue, is directly taken from _Transformers: Prime_, season 2, episode 26 _Our Darkest Hour_. It's not mine so please don't sue.

**Author Note:** Thanks to those who left reviews and/or put the story to their favorites and/or alerts.

I wish you all a merry Christmas and a very happy new year!

* * *

– chapter three –

**Divide and Conquer**

Ratchet. The first Jack saw when Arcee exited the spacebridge was the medic. His optics immediately fell on the pods. "The children?" he asked, sounding surprised. While the bots put down the pods so that Arcee could let Jack, Miko and Raf out, Ratchet took in his comrades' expressions and asked, "What happened?"

No one answered; Jack could see they all were shocked beyond words.

But the ever so impatient Ratchet demanded, "Somebody say something!"

Bulkhead was the first to break the continuing silence. "Optimus destroyed the Omega Lock."

Ratchet's optics widened. "What? You did –?"

"What was necessary," Optimus interrupted him. "There was no time for another prolonged battle. Not with Earth in imminent danger." His expression was grim.

"So you destroyed the only device in any universe capable of restoring our home?" Ratchet asked, incredulous – as if he couldn't believe the taller bot to be capable of such drastic measures. "Optimus, we needed that," he added quietly.

Smokescreen walked up and, defending his idol, said, "You weren't there, doc. And it's not your place to second-guess a battlefield decision."

That only served to anger Ratchet. He shouted, "It most certainly is! There _had_ to be another way."

By now freed of his glass prison, Jack walked up to the edge of the level he was on. "It wasn't that simple, Ratchet," he said, willing the medic to understand the why behind Optimus' decision.

Before the medic had time to say something, Raf explained, "Megatron was using the Omega Lock to attack the Earth."

And Miko added defiantly, "Optimus saved our planet."

"What about _our_ planet?" Ratchet asked them, his voice full of emotions. "All of our struggles, and energon spilled, and countless sacrifices – for _nothing_?"

In a way Jack could sympathize with the medic, but different to humans, the bots were able to travel to other planets to find a new home. They could start over on another planet. Saving Earth from destruction, however, was the only chance for Jack's species to survive. Ratchet had to understand that.

Arcee didn't give him the chance to make Ratchet see his point, however, because she said, "Right decision or wrong, what's done is done. But we have another problem here on _this_ world. The 'cons just changed the rules when they put Jack, Miko and Raf into place."

Their discussion was interrupted when the communications array signaled an incoming message; it was Agent Fowler. "Prime!" he said and then a live-feed from him popped open so they could all see him. He continued, "The Pentagon's preparing to go to Defcon 1. I need to know what we're dealing with."

Optimus stepped closer. "To what do you refer, Agent Fowler?" he asked.

Frowning, Agent Fowler suggested, "Maybe you should step outside and see for yourselves."

It didn't take long for Optimus to make the decision. "Ratchet, watch the children," he downright ordered the medic before leaving with the other bots.

Jack didn't know whether Optimus meant to put the medic back into his place after his outburst or not. One thought wouldn't leave him alone, however: If Ratchet had fetched them from school when they called, events would have unfolded differently. The Decepticons would never have been able to take them prisoner and thus use them as bait. Maybe Optimus was having the same thought, and his order was meant to ensure Ratchet didn't make the same mistake twice. Maybe it even was a combination of both, or nothing of either. Jack might never find out unless he asked Optimus directly – which he most likely would not. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Raf and Miko exchange glances, and when they both looked up at him, he realized they were having the same line of thought.

Ratchet was visibly unhappy with the job as babysitter. He stared at them with narrowed optics for a while, as if daring them to move away to where he would have to follow. Miko, defiant to orders as usual, turned around before long and headed for their recreational area. Jack could see Ratchet open his mouth to say something, but he closed it again after a moment. Raf therefore chose to follow Miko, and Jack soon trotted along.

To Jack's surprise, Miko had chosen a local news channel. _"… and scientists are unable to explain the phenomenon at the current stage,"_ a reporter announced. In the background, he could see pictures of an alien construction rising skyward. He squinted to see more of the landscape, and gaped open-mouthed when he recognized his hometown in the background. "Guys, this is outside," he said, stunned.

Both their heads whipped around, but before either could say something, an explosion sounded from outside. All three looked up in alarm. Jack could see that Ratchet too lifted his optics to the ceiling. In just that moment, a series of explosions sounded, the last one intense enough to shake the base to the ground. Dust started raining down on them, and everything that hung from the ceiling started to swing.

Another explosion and earthquake-like feeling made them jump up off the couch and run over to Ratchet. He was studying something on his screens. When he didn't immediately react to their presence, Jack asked him, "What's happening?"

In that moment, the other bots returned. Them Ratchet noticed. Turning toward them, he asked, "What is going on out there?"

"The Decepticons have invaded Jasper," Optimus answered.

Bulkhead added, "And Fowler seems to think he can hold them off."

In just that moment, Fowler announced, "Prime! Reinforcements just arrived." He sounded happy.

Optimus took a step forward and said imploringly, "Agent Fowler, your military cannot prevail against –"

"Ya didn't think I would let Team Prime gonna have all the fun, did ya?" a familiar voice interrupted him.

Bulkhead jubilated, "It's Jacky!"

"Wheeljack?" Ratchet asked, stunned. "But how did you –?"

A live-feed of Wheeljack appeared on the communications screen. "Picked up a strange energy surge," he explained. "Hope you don't mind the company."

Ratchet immediately said, "No! It's just that… after everything… well…" He trailed off, and Jack wondered what the story behind the medic's bafflement was.

"We're still on the same team, doc," the Wrecker reminded him before adding, "Always will be."

Silence settled over the group, only interrupted by the on-going bombardment and fighting outside. Jack was glad that at least no more dust was falling from the ceiling. He wasn't sure what they were waiting for. He only knew it wasn't what Optimus had in mind. "Ratchet, prepare to bridge everyone out of here," he ordered. Jack looked over to the leader of the Autobots; he hadn't even noticed the bot having separated from the group, with his back turned on them.

Ratchet's incredulity was audible when he asked, "We're abandoning the base?"

Turning back toward them, Optimus said, "The base is lost. Wheeljack and Agent Fowler can only buy us time to escape. Bumblebee, Rafael, you will depart first."

Before the words could fully register with Jack, Raf asked, "You're splitting us up?"

_No,_ he thought, _that's a mistake!_ Aloud, Jack said, "Shouldn't we stick together?"

"All for one and one for all?" Miko chimed in, appropriately using the motto of the musketeers.

"We must disburse to avoid capture until we can regroup and launch a covert attack," Optimus explained. His tone was resolute, his decision final. "Survival is our only priority now."

They had no other choice but to do as he asked, more so because the bots didn't give them another option. Bumblebee immediately reached out for Raf. The younger boy quickly gave both Miko and Jack a hug before climbing over the railing and onto the hand of his guardian. Bumblebee protectively pulled him toward his chassis before transforming around him, Raf ending up in the back seat.

A helmet presented to him pulled Jack out of his thoughts. He met Arcee's optics; she nodded subtly. He took the helmet and walked down the stairs to meet her. Above him, Miko mirrored Raf and climbed into Bulkhead's hand over the railing. Both bots then transformed simultaneously, just when the groundbridge was activated. Jack watched Bumblebee drive through it before vanishing.

"Come on, Jack," Arcee urged him when he hadn't moved for a solid minute, instead just standing next to her like a rock.

"We haven't much time," Optimus said to the room at large, echoing Arcee's words. Jack sighed before getting on.

Arcee drove up to where Bulkhead was waiting for the get-go, coming to a stop next to him. Jack met Miko's eyes again for a last time before Bulkhead drove into the groundbridge. A moment later, it was his and Arcee's turn. Jack put on his helmet, and off they went.

There were no goodbyes, no hugs, no promises that everything would be all right. While speeding toward the light, Jack couldn't help but wonder what their future would bring – or if he would ever see his friends again. Alive.

* * *

Jazz and the others stared. It was one thing to see a building that reminded them of the home they had left vorns ago. It was another story to see it on what they had assumed was an organic world.

"What do you mean?" Prowl asked the scientist, the first to break the shocked silence.

Joining Jazz at his console, Perceptor pulled up some specific subsensor scan results and had them transmitted to the main screen. "It appears the energy beam we witnessed initiated a terraforming process as we've seen on other worlds. The Quintessons especially were known to terraform organic worlds to suit their needs."

Prowl frowned. "Why would the Decepticons attempt the cyberformation of this planet – assuming it was them who fired that beam?"

Perceptor shrugged. "I cannot answer you this question. I only know that the process has begun and that I have an idea of how it will end if nothing stops it."

Before Prowl could ask any more questions, Silverbolt said, "Uh, sirs? The spacebridge was just activated again."

Jazz's head snapped up to the radar screen, his optics zooming in on the blinking red dot depicting the _Nemesis_. It remained stationary alongside the spacebridge for another couple of breems, then it started moving – in their direction. Prowl having watched the radar too barked, "Keep the moon in-between ourselves and the _Nemesis_. We mustn't be seen." And as soon as he stopped speaking, the engines fired up and the _Ark_ started to move forward.

Their changing position allowed them to remain hidden from the Decepticons while they themselves had a clear view of the enemy ship's rear end when it approached the planet before entering its atmosphere. The radar showed them that the _Nemesis_ was headed for the Cybertronian structure. Nonetheless, they kept their position just in case; after all, the _Nemesis_' sensors would most likely pick them up as soon as they got any closer to the planet.

"And now?" Sideswipe asked after several moments of inactivity, looking at Prowl and Jazz.

Jazz's optics were glued to the radar. "Now we have a problem," he said when hundreds of red dots appeared out of the blue, temporarily surrounding the _Nemesis_, before heading forward in one direction – a Decepticon armada most likely being about to attack.

"I wonder what their target is," Clocker mused out loud while watching the red dots' movements.

Prowl's expression was dark. "I sincerely hope not our tea—"

"Got them!" Blaster suddenly announced, interrupting the tactician. Then he cussed, "_Slag_!"

"Lock onto them and send the coordinates to the rescue team," Prowl ordered, ignoring the cursing. "Sideswipe, get us down to them. Jazz, weren't you supposed to assemble a team?"

"I lost them again," Blaster announced before grumbling loudly for everybot to hear, "This is slagging _weird_." All the while his fingers flew at rapid speed over the radar console, and the curses falling from his lipplates became more and more colorful.

"What is?" Prowl demanded, his tone growing impatient.

"What the –?" Blaster halfway turned around while pointing at the radar. "One moment they were there, at the center of the 'con armada, and the next they're gone again, just like that." He snipped his fingers. "The sensors couldn't pick them up anymore, no matter what I tried. But now, all of a sudden, their signals are spreading out across one of the land masses this planet apparently consists of, and all in different locations." He paused, looking pensively at the radar, before adding, "Also, there are more than there should be…"

"What do you mean?" Prowl asked for clarification.

Jazz walked over and checked the radar, frowning. To his surprise, there were six signals where there should have been only four, and one of these was relatively close to the Cybertronian structure they had seen earlier. Just in that moment Sideswipe shouted, "Massive energy burst detected. Origin: the _Nemesis_." Two spark pulses later, a seventh signal appeared on the radar, quivering in instability – as if the bot was about to offline.

Probably because he never received an answer to his question, Prowl joined them at the console. He took one glance at the sensor readout before turning to Jazz. "Get that team ready. We haven't much time."

Silverbolt was waiting for him at the door, and the two left the command center to head for the weapon's storage. On their way down, Jazz contacted their best fighters, asking them to meet with him in the hangar.

Halfway toward the weapons storage, a small golden body appeared at his left ankle. The saboteur glanced down and met the blue optics of one of Blaster's cassettes. "What'ya doin' here?" he asked Steeljaw.

The cassette shrugged without breaking his even stride. "The boss sends you a message."

"Which boss, mine or yours?"

"Isn't Prowl both our boss?" came a question in reply.

Jazz laughed, and Silverbolt joined in; Steeljaw had great humor. "Point taken."

They continued on in silence for half a breem before Steeljaw clarified, "Prowl asked Blaster to have me inform you that Ironhide's team returned."

Frowning, the saboteur halted and looked down at the cassette. "They're back? How? We left 'em on that desert planet a vorn ago. They only have a small vessel, not a ship able ta travel great distances through space."

Setting on his haunches, Steeljaw said, "Ask him yourself. Prowl already received the report –"

Jazz snorted; Ironhide was known for only grouchily hand in mission reports.

"– and ordered him to gather a second team for the rescue mission of Prime and his team," the cassette finished as if the saboteur had never interrupted him.

"Al'right." Dismissing it for now, Jazz said, "Speaking of missions: Wanna join mah team? Ah could always use somebot with ya talents."

The cassette shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks. Bots taller than me are better for a rescue mission of the kind that lies ahead. Besides, Blaster has other work for me to do. And that is my cue to get back." He got up and turned around, walking into the direction they came from. Before he vanished around a corner, he said over his shoulder, "Good luck."

Jazz told Silverbolt to go find his brothers while he himself went about to locate Ironhide. He found the warrior soon after, sitting on a crate in front of one of the weapons storages with Hoist standing behind him. The medic was working on a shoulder joint. "You should come into the medbay and not join this mission," he was just saying, his tone imploring – telling Jazz that he had been trying to coax Ironhide for quite some time. "Please, 'Hide. If the joint catches during a battle with the 'cons, you'll be unable to defend yourself." Preparing for an interesting argument between warrior and medic, Jazz leaned against the wall and crossed his arms in front of his chestplates.

But the old warrior only shrugged away the worries. "Won't happen, doc. Just put in some more oil. Once Optimus and the rest is sound and safe back aboard the _Ark_, I'll get my skidplate into medbay for proper treatment."

Jazz couldn't help but snort, nearly drowning out the resigned sigh of Hoist, and the warrior looked up. "Ya only say it ta ease his processor," Jazz accused Ironhide with a grin.

"I know of a certain mech who uses the same tactic to stay away from medbay," the warrior retorted unfathomed.

"Touché."

Hoist then finished and reattached the thick armor plates. Testing his shoulder, the warrior rolled it. It seemed to function flawlessly. Ironhide grunted in satisfaction. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Hoist said while packing up his toolkit. "Just take care of yourself and good luck." Then he left.

The saboteur retracted his visor and met Ironhide's optics dead on. "Before we leave, tell meh something: how did ya get back?"

Shrugging, Ironhide said, "Got attacked by the Star Seekers but we took control of that spacebridge they attached to their hull and came out near the _Ark_."

"Slag!" Jazz cursed, unfolding his arms and pushing away from the wall. "If their spacebridge is continuously logged onto our ship, it's understandable they always find us so quickly." His visor slid back over his optics and he started pacing; the revelation unnerved him.

Out of the corner of his optics Jazz saw Ironhide watching him for a breem before saying, "Cosmos said something different."

The saboteur halted midstride and looked up sharply. "Say that again."

Shrugging, Ironhide repeated what he just said before adding, "We came out of the spacebridge you found out there." He loosely pointed in the moon's direction behind which the Decepticons' spacebridge was located.

The visor shone brightly when Jazz said, "Ya mean ta tell meh that their spacebridge locked onto the 'cons', and that's how ya got back?" Then he burst out laughing, without waiting for the warrior to confirm his suspicion. "Primus, that's what Ah call intergalactic co-ordination." He filed away a note to worry about the Star Seekers later, then walked over and clapped his claws on the taller mech's arm. "Let's go. There's bots that need being rescued."

"Not before I packed some more ammunition for my cannons," Ironhide retorted. Jazz tipped his head in agreement, grinning widely.

The bots chosen for the rescue mission were already assembled in the hangar when Jazz and Ironhide arrived, and the saboteur noted with satisfaction that Silverbolt had found all four of his brothers. The large hangar was filled with excited chatter. "All right, pay attention!" Ironhide shouted without preamble, calling the teams to order. Silence dropped instantly.

Jazz stepped forward, automatically taking command as highest ranking bot. His playfulness was gone; he was all serious business. "Listen up, folks: it's recon and rescue. Prime's team got split up without any backup. That's where we come in. We get down, locate them, an' pull 'em out of whatever situation they're in. No solo attempts. This is not the time ta play the hero." He looked Air Raid in the optics, willing him to pull a single stupid stunt.

The aerial bot got the message for he ducked his head sheepishly.

Nodding in satisfaction, Ironhide added, "If I have to report any casualties at the end of the orn, I'll not be a happy mech. I'll drag you out of the Pit by your fenders only to kill you myself. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the assembled mechs chorused smartly.

"What he said," Jazz said. "Now grab whatever weapons you can carry."

The mechs moved as one and were packed not a breem later. Just then, a message rolled over all their HUDs while the ship's sirens flared to life:

_We have incoming._


	4. Flight and Fight

**Author Note:** Happy New Year and many thanks for all your continuing support! :)

My apologies for the delay in updating but I got bogged down by the flu. As I'm now on the mend, chapters should get written faster now.

**Legend:**

"bla bla" - normal speech  
/_bla bla_/ - comm speech

* * *

– chapter four –

**Flight and Fight**

When exiting the groundbridge, they had ended up in the middle of a wood. Without hesitation or even orientation, Arcee had headed forward, as if she knew where to go. They had soon after found a dirt road, on which they had been riding on for the last half hour, without yet having reached the edge of the wood. There was lots of wood still ahead of them, as far as the eye could see; at least, that was Jack's impression, although his helmet limited his visual range quite a bit.

It wasn't the only reason, though, why he was beginning to grow impatient. Certainly had it been the plan to split up to avoid capture, but did Ratchet have to send them to the middle of nowhere? How were he and Arcee supposed to catch back up with the others if they were stranded in the wilderness without even the slightest sign of civilization around?

"You okay, partner?" Arcee asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He sighed, shaking his head. "I wonder how the others are doing," he admitted.

Arcee didn't answer for several moments, making Jack wonder whether she had even heard him with the helmet on, but then she quietly allowed, "Me too."

They continued on in silence for quite some time; to Jack it felt like hours. At some point the dirt road broadened to an asphalt street, but even then they drove on for miles before reaching the first sign of civilization – an out-of-the-way farm. Arcee didn't stop though and Jack resigned to his fate of her calling the shots.

Eventually, Jack could no longer stand the silence and said, "Bulkhead's strong, he will look out for Miko. Hopefully, she'll be able to keep a low profile. Raf at least knows how that works, and with Bumblebee there to protect him, they'll be safe." He knew he babbled, but he didn't care. He needed to get it out of his system or he would choke on the words.

Arcee finally slowed down until she came to a halt at the side of the road. Although he was glad he was also bewildered. Nonetheless, Jack got off her, and she immediately transformed once he had stepped aside to give her room. He took off his helmet. When his eyes locked with her optics, he noticed their gleam was dim, the usual bright blue only a washed-out hue. The way she gave him a thorough look-over, however, was a stark contrast to her otherwise worried expression. "They are safe, Jack," she said, her tone strong and confident. "Don't worry about them."

He looked down, averting his eyes. "I hope you're right," he mumbled. "I just need them to be safe. All of them." It was his way to cope with the feeling of helplessness that held him tight.

Arcee gently laid a servo onto his shoulder, squeezing it. "As long as Optimus lives, there's hope that we will one day win."

Jack couldn't quite share her optimism, but he too believed into Optimus Prime. If not the leader of the Autobots, who was going to defeat Megatron?

* * *

Logging into the command frequency, Jazz quickly got a direct feed of what the bots on the command center could see through the front window as well as what the ship sensors recorded, including a play-by-play radar readout.

Sideswipe had already brought the _Ark_ into the planet's atmosphere and was heading for the Cybertronian construction Perceptor had first noticed. In Jazz's opinion, it looked like some sort of fortress, and from there, the enemy was approaching. The air was filled with dozens if not hundreds of what appeared to be Eradicons and Insecticons. The _Ark_ was firing all it got, but with so many enemies, it was difficult to leave a sizable dent to make the difference.

They had to redirect their fire when the _Nemesis_ rose from its hovering position next to the Cybertronian structure and headed for them. The _Ark_'s sensors detected the Decepticon warship powering up its weapons, and although Prowl immediately instructed for the shield to be strengthened, one of the auxiliary engines was hit by the first laser volley and exploded, rocking the ship forward and throwing them all off balance.

Jazz picked himself off the ground. Next to him, Ironhide mirrored his actions. The warrior too had logged into the command frequency, using it to say, /_Looks like it's going to be a fun ride._/

Prowl's answer was terse. /_Don't forget the mission objective._/

With a roll of his optics, Jazz focused on the bots in the hangar and said, "As ya noticed, there's an army jus' outside the hangar door that's trying ta get us ta land the hard way. So it's either retreat – or fight our way through it. Which will it be?" The answer was a deafening roar of "Fight!" Weapons were drawn. Jazz nodded. "Then let's shoot some 'cons out of the sky. Autobots, roll out!" As if in answer to their battle cry, a series of small explosions along the hull was to be heard.

While the mechs eagerly waited for the hangar door to finally open so they could pay back the Decepticons for harming their ship, Prowl came through via comm on all frequencies. /_Sideswipe's trying to get the _Ark _as close as possible, but you might still need an alternate plan of how to get down._/

"Ya heard the mech," Jazz said to the group of warriors in front of him. "Get inventive." Just then, the hangar door opened, a battalion of Insecticons swarming by before noticing them and heading in their direction. Jazz quickly scanned the battlefield to get an overview, readied himself –

– and then jumped.

Behind him, he heard the Aerials take off, their engines a furious snarl, and immediately engaging the enemy jets. Battle cries followed his way down when the other ground-sparked bots followed his example.

Jazz wouldn't be Jazz if he had a deactivation wish, however. He would never jump into the blue without a plan or safety net. In this case, his safety net was an Eradicon he had seen approaching before he jumped. Jazz landed literally on top of him, the force of his attack forcing the 'con downward, throwing him off track.

His enemy realized soon what kind of passenger he had picked up involuntarily and tried transforming, but that was what Jazz had been counting on. As soon as the first seam of splitting-apart armor plates was visible, Jazz unsubspaced his laser rifle, aimed for a cluster of especially sensitive transformation nodes, and fired without a second thought. The wing halfway tore off and the Eradicon shrieked at the pain. With the loss of his aerodynamic construction, he no longer had the chance to keep to his trajectory and started tumbling toward the ground. Jazz briefly contemplated whether or not to stick around, but when he spied an Insecticon close-by, his decision was made. With a powerful jump, he leapt off the injured 'con and got a grab on the legs of an especially monstrous bug.

Different to the Eradicon, the Insecticon noticed his passenger immediately. It twisted and rolled around mid-flight, trying to shake him off, but Jazz used the momentum of his jump combined with the enemy's twisting and rolling to swing himself up onto the bug's back, directly behind the wings. He took out his laser rifle once again and shot the wings where they protruded out of the Insecticon's back. After only three shots, the systems operating the wings lit up in an explosion. The bug's roar of fury and pain was deafening. Nonetheless, Jazz was able to hear similar cries from all around them. Bringing himself out of the wounded Insecticon's reach by jumping off once again, he took a quick look around to see how his bots were faring.

The air was clouded with smoke rising from wounded Eradicon sensors and Insecticon wings. When sweeping the ground below, he saw multiple enemy bodies lie wrangled or burning. In-between, he could discern a servoful of Autobots moving, shooting whatever enemy still moved, be it on the ground or in the air. Satisfied that the teams had everything under control, he focused on his next victim that had the misfortune to cross his path.

Eventually, three disabled Eradicons later, Jazz made it to the ground. He immediately rounded up the Autobots he lay optics on and reorganized them into a proper suppression fire. He just finished and let the bots lose on the remaining Insecticons and Eradicons when Jazz noticed Ironhide touch down. He went over to him.

"Interesting choice of ride you picked out for us," the warrior grumbled and dusted himself off before kicking the bug that had been his method of transport. He sported a couple of scars more to his finish now.

Shrugging but grinning, Jazz replied, "A mech must do what a mech must do."

Snorting, Ironhide said, "Whatever." Then he pointed at the Cybertronian construction not too far ahead. "Blaster said we'll find our bot near that. Let's check it out." Subspacing his weapons, he transformed, and Jazz immediately followed suit.

Their approach passed mostly undetected, and the few 'cons that did notice them were dealt with quickly and effectively before they could call for backup. Halfway to the Decepticons' new fortress, they found a huge pile of rocks that helped splendidly with seeking momentary cover. Whilst Ironhide took position as look-out, Jazz crouched down behind a large boulder and contacted the _Ark_. /_Do you have an exact location for me, Blaster?_/ he asked the communications bot.

/_Sending them over now. You're very close,_/ came the immediate reply, followed by the sound of relatively distant explosions. Jazz looked up at the _Ark_ in time to see the _Nemesis_ shower it with another volley of laser fire that exploded along the hull. So far, however, the shield held and the _Ark_ returned fire.

An internal alert announced the arrival of Blaster's message. Diverting his attention, Jazz perused the coordinates, then stood to take a thorough look around, scanning the area. He then matched both maps up. The Autobot's signal was indeed very close, not five kliks away of where they crouched at the outer edge of the rock pile. Jazz signaled Ironhide, and the two were on their way.

It took them a moment of walking along a precipice before finding a crevasse large enough for them both to slip inside. The further they then advanced into the rocky labyrinth, the more it showed that this was not of natural origin. Beams of steel and cables were to be seen here or there, and the closer they got to their comrade, the darker Jazz's frown became. Eventually, he halted, causing Ironhide to nearly collide with him. Before the warrior could protest, the saboteur said, "What does this remind ya of?" He pointed upward.

He could clearly see Ironhide pondering it over. Eventually, the warrior said, "Looks like a doorway to me."

Jazz didn't reply but walked on. With the discovery of the doorway, he looked much closer at his surroundings. The feeling that they were standing in a destroyed bunker of sorts was unshakable by now.

The most disturbing discovery, however, was when he looked down where he was walking. The sight made him freeze on the spot.

"Jazz?" Ironhide asked from behind. "What is it?"

Venting heavily, the saboteur said, "Come see for yaself." The warrior did just that and ended up staring incredulously at the Autobot symbol beneath their pedes.

Suddenly, their comms flared to life. /_Jazz, Ironhide, whatever you're doing, finish quickly. You're about to get company._/ It was Silverbolt.

Both bots looked up and immediately saw Starscream and five Eradicons heading their way.

Ironhide pulled his cannon out of subspace and took aim. "Finally some proper targets!" he whooped excitedly.

Jazz trusted the warrior to take care of the 'cons. As time was running out though, he turned around, frantically looking for their comrade. His rescue was the reason they were risking their lives after all.

He didn't have to search for long, finding the missing Autobot not too far away from the symbol on the ground. He lay buried beneath lots of rubble of what Jazz assumed must have been the team's base on this planet. The reason he even found him, buried as he was, was a sparking servo sticking out.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the enemy was quickly getting closer. Ironhide wouldn't like having to bare his back on them, but Jazz could hardly move that much rubble alone in such a short time. He needed help – and fast. "'Hide, help me. Let them come; the rubble will protect us," he said. "I hope," he added darkly, quietly, already turning back around and getting to work.

But the warrior didn't appear to help digging. Instead, Jazz clearly heard cannon fire and the roar of jet engines when the 'cons broke formation and thundered past them, only to turn around before heading back in their direction.

"Slaggit, 'Hide, that's an order!" he barked at the warrior.

"Great, so we let our afts get blown up while we rescue some idiot who didn't get out quickly enough before they blew up their base? Is that your oh so wise plan?"

Jazz swore. Before he could repeat his order though – or call for help – Ironhide fired his cannon again. One of the Eradicons was too slow to evade the bullet and blew up in a ball of fire, the electronic screech of pain washing over them before the sound broke off abruptly.

"One down, five still to go," Ironhide said grimly before taking aim once more.

Jazz gave up getting the warrior to help digging and turned toward his self-set mission. His task was interrupted not an astrosecond later when one of the steel beams close-by exploded from the bombardment the Decepticons were showering them with. In-between, Ironhide's cannon was to be heard, but it was one Autobot against five Decepticons. The warrior wouldn't stand a chance for much longer.

Before Jazz could abandon his task and pull out his laser rifle, another Eradicon ignited in an impressive fireball – but it hadn't been Ironhide aiming for him. Jazz looked around frantically and saw a mech quickly making for them. He couldn't discern any faction symbols over the distance, despite his heightened sensors, but he tagged him friendly when the newcomer kept firing on Starscream and his team. He hit another Eradicon, but instead of deactivating him, he was only able to wound the 'con. When he came a little closer, Jazz could make out that the bot was limping – and bore the Autobot symbol. Relaxing a little in relief, knowing that he had two bots covering his back, he started digging again. He uncovered the entire arm before the newcomer arrived with them.

Overhead, Starscream and the remaining Eradicons suddenly retreated, but Jazz had the inkling that they would be back before long – with lots of backup. If they wanted to be gone by the time of their return, they had to dig fast.

Ironhide still wasn't up to help him though. Robbed of targets, he aimed his cannon at the newcomer. "Who are you?" he snarled.

The unknown mech held up his servos, his rifle hanging loosely from a finger. "The designation's Wheeljack. I'm with the Wreckers."

Jazz frowned when looking over the new bot; he was badly wounded, the limp being the smallest of his problems. Nonetheless, the mech was able to stay upright and seemed more than willing to join the fight. Jazz was the last to talk the mech out of it, nonetheless remained a little wary as long as he hadn't verified his identity. He left that to Ironhide as the warrior was much better suited for interrogations. "The Wreckers stayed behind on Cybertron," came in response just that moment, telling Jazz that Ironhide apparently had had the same line of thought.

"Yeah, a couple should still be there, but over the many vorns since the _Ark_ left, we had to spread out and leave or offline," Wheeljack said, undeterred by their suspiciousness. "I chose to hunt Decepticons rather than wait to be reunited with Primus."

Out of the corner of his optics Jazz saw Ironhide's frown before he slowly lowered his weapon. "Sounds about right," the warrior mumbled, thus clearing the bot from any suspicions until he gave them reason to mistrust him.

Wheeljack relaxed and subspaced his weapon before turning to Jazz. "Looks bad," he commented, pointing at the arm sticking out.

"Ah can see that for mahself," Jazz snarled back. "Help meh already!" Shuttering his optics in surprise, Wheeljack was quick to assist.

Together they needed only five breems to free the torso from all rubble, and Jazz's worst fears proved true. The bot they were digging out was none other than Optimus Prime himself. Ironhide's vents stuttered when he realized who lay wounded at their pedes. "Primus," he muttered. But seeing their leader wounded was finally enough incentive for him to put down his cannon and help them digging.

Once Optimus lay free, Jazz could see the total extend of the wounds. Not only was the servo that had stuck out sparking but his legs too. The hip was crushed, torn electronic wires sticking out. Most of the armor was dented, partly so much that the energon lines beneath were pressed together. The energon could no longer flow freely, and the resulting high pressure eventually led to the lines bursting open. There was a large pool of energon collecting beneath their leader's frame. When Jazz leaned down to see if there still was a spark pulse, he already feared the worst. But he could feel one – as faint as it was. "He's still alive," he said, his tone urgent. "We need ta get him out of here as quickly as possible."

Next to him, Ironhide scrambled away back toward his cannon. "Would love to help you with that but we're about to get company!" Wheeljack too whirled around and unsheathed his swords. When Jazz looked up, what little hope he still had plummeted to the bottom of his tanks.

Megatron himself was leading the armada of Eradicons and Insecticons heading their way.


	5. Power Games

**Author Note:** Sorry for not updating sooner. Work got the better of me and I had to do overtime, and on top of that my muse was a little moody and uncooperative.

Thank you for all the feedback. I'm glad you enjoyed the story so far, and hope you'll take the minute it takes to leave a review. Only when I know what exactly you think I can improve.

Now enjoy the next installment.

**Legend:**

"bla bla" - normal speech  
/_bla bla_/ - comm speech

* * *

– chapter five –

**Power Games**

To Jack it felt like eternity, in truth it wasn't even another hour before they were finally out of the wood. Arcee briefly stopped at a conjunction before turning right. The street was properly paved so they made good speed. They thus soon reached an out of the way convenient store with a large though nearly empty parking lot in the middle of nowhere. The sun was already setting, which confused Jack; when they left Jasper, it had still been afternoon. When he caught sight of the license plate of a parked car, his mouth dropped open in shock. Ratchet had sent them to Iowa? Now it made sense. Iowa was located in another time zone, two hours ahead of Nevada to be precise, so it would of course already be getting dark outside.

Arcee stopped right in front of the store. Jack didn't immediately dismount, having an idea. "Can't we just, you know, call someone?" he asked her. "I'm sure Mom's all worried about me." He paused, another thought flitting through his mind, before adding enthusiastically, "Or you could contact the others and we can regroup."

She moved beneath him, trying to turn her front in his direction but without much success due to the physical impossibility. "I'm sorry, Jack, but no calls – neither by phone nor cell nor comm." She sighed. "The 'cons are just waiting for us to make that mistake."

"But –"

"No buts, Jack," she cut him off, her voice hard. "You don't have any idea what they're capable of. They will find us if we make a call."

"Won't they find us anyway because of your unique signature?" he argued. If he had learned anything from Ratchet's medical speeches, it was that each bot's spark was as unique as humans were thanks to DNA.

Arcee gave off the air of someone shaking their head even without actually doing so. "I'm currently dampening my spark signature. They won't find me – _us_ – without some serious efforts." It was supposed to sound reassuring, but somehow he didn't quite feel it. Nonetheless, Jack relented with a sigh, accepting her final decision. And as if that had been the cue she'd been waiting for, she said in a soft voice, "You should find some food, Jack." Her front tire moved, pointing toward the store. His stomach agreed with a sudden growl, announcing it was time for dinner.

Jack finally dismounted and proceeded to check his pockets. He unearthed a couple dollars and dimes, enough to buy him a coke and sandwich if he was lucky. Before he could leave, though, sudden laughter made his head whip around while he tensed. There was no attack, however, only a couple of burly looking teenagers exiting a couple of run-down pickups that had just arrived and parked only a couple of meters away. He relaxed again and checked them out curiously. A few met his stares, but they didn't seem overly friendly. Two or three even gave the impression as if he wasn't in the least welcome here. So he looked away again. Mindful to them potentially listening in, he mumbled to Arcee, "I'll be right back."

The store wasn't too big and the assortment therefore as limited as expected. Nonetheless, Jack took his time with looking around. The man behind the counter followed his every move with watchful eyes, making him a little nervous. Luckily, he found a lunch package consisting of a sandwich and salad as well as a can of coke that fit nicely into his limited budget. After paying, though, he was broke.

The vendor took the money in silence, but when Jack was about to leave again, he asked, "You're not from around here, are you?"

Turning halfway back around, he answered, "Um… no. Just… passing through."

"Eh."

Deciding it couldn't hurt, Jack asked, "Where exactly am I? I… think I got lost somehow."

The man snorted. "Maybe you should have bought a map instead then." He pointed toward a very small selection in front of his till.

It wasn't really because he wanted to buy a map – which he wouldn't be able to afford anyway – that Jack walked back to the counter but because he could read the map title, spelling the district. "Lucas County," he read. He had never before even heard of it. Ratchet had not only whisked them to Iowa but into the boonies! Disheartened, Jack sighed and left the store without another word, not even answering the inquiries the vendor called after him.

Outside, he was quickly pulled out of his dark thoughts when he didn't see Arcee parked where he had left her. Instead, a trio of the same guys that had hung around the pickups greeted him with greedy grins. "Nice ride you got, pup," one of them, the largest, said. "Too bad it's not befitting your type." His cronies broke out in laughter.

Jack frantically searched the parking lot for Arcee, spotting her being lifted into one of the pickups' bed. Why she didn't transform to get them out of here was beyond him, but his attention shifted back to the guys when they came closer. "What's the matter, pup? Nothing to say?" His voice took on a fake crooning sound; just for that Jack could have kicked him.

Summoning all his courage, Jack stood up against them. "It's my bike and I want her back." He paused for effect before adding, "Or I call the police."

The tall guy – probably the leader of the little gang; maybe he should call him 'Boss'? – grinned even wider. "Did you hear that, boys? The pup wants to call the cops."

"Probably still gets bedtime stories read to him by mommy," one of the other said, making the three dissolve into laughter again.

Jack was trembling with fury. How dare they mock him? How dare they kidnap Arcee? He stood as straight as he could and said with his most menacing voice, "I'll fight you for her." He lifted his hands and balled them into fists, ready to punch anyone daring to come close.

The laughter stopped abruptly. With an even wider grin and dangerously sparkling eyes, Boss took in his stance, then said, "You want to fight? All right, you're on. But we do it by my conditions." He pulled out a stack of cards from his pockets. "You know how to play poker? You win three rounds out of five, and you can have back your bike."

"And if I lose?" Jack asked, slowly letting his arms sink down again.

"Then I guess you'll have to walk back home." Boss cocked his head, emitting a strong aura of self-confidence. "Do we have a deal?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Gulping down his sudden nervousness, Jack nodded once sharply. "Deal." He just hoped that he still remembered all the tricks his grandfather had taught him about eight years ago before his mother forbid him to ever play poker again. And that Fortuna was with him right now.

Turning on their heels, the trio walked back to the pickups. Boss climbed into the unoccupied pickup's bed without much ado and settled down. Jack hesitated for a moment, then straightened his back and followed suit. Once aboard, he sat down cross-legged.

Boss winked at one of his buddies. "Give him some chips." To Jack he then said, "We start with five-ten, then increase exponentially with every round played. You go first."

Jack nodded. "Understood." He took the chips offered to him while another buddy took the cards Boss held out.

"Riffle properly," came the impromptu order.

Then they started.

The first hand was halfway decent; Spades Nine and Hearts Seven. Jack called and the dealer put the cards down. Jack kept his expression blank but he inwardly groaned; that didn't look too good – no pair, various colors and not even close to forming a straight. He nonetheless raised by the amount in the pot, hoping that he'd thus throw off the other. To his dismay, Boss called his bluff. The next card gave him a little hope though; Spades Seven. A pair was always a good start, and with a little bit of luck, he could finish with three of a kind. He raised again, but Boss once more called it. The last card to be put down was a Diamonds King. With the Clubs King already on the table, Jack now had two pairs. He raised once more, but rather than immediately calling it, Boss hesitated. He pondered the cards a couple of moments before saying, "I'm out."

Exhilarated at having won the first round, Jack collected the chips while the buddy acting as dealer riffled the stack again.

His second hand was Clubs Queen and Clubs Ten. Since he only had to check the other's call, things were a little more relaxing. Nonetheless, Jack decided to take a couple of risks and raised; after all, the stakes were high. He didn't doubt Arcee would be able to free herself when the time was right, but he would be on his own until she found him again. If the 'cons attacked him in the meanwhile, he'd stand no chance whatsoever.

Boss looking up and glaring at him stopped his train of thoughts. "You sure your hand warrants that much raising?" he asked.

Jack blinked, having a déjà-vu. His grandfather had used the same trick on him, trying to make him believe he had a pair of aces or something similar. And Jack had always fallen for the bluff. But not today. He had to win this game – if not for him, then for Arcee. "It does indeed," he therefore answered, not backing out of his raise.

Exhaling loudly with an air of incredulity, Boss called it.

The playing cards lifted his spirits: two more Clubs and a Hearts Ten. One more Clubs and he'd finish with a flush. Then he would have to win only one more round to get back Arcee. He therefore called Boss' raise. His heart sunk a little when the next card was another Ten. Three of a kind was not bad, but if Boss had a pair of one of the other two cards on the table, he'd have a full house to top his three of a kind. Gritting his teeth and trying to ignore the smirk aimed in his direction, Jack called the raise.

His heart about stopped when the final card was put down before his body visibly relaxed. Jack fought to keep his relief off his face but judging the frown now being thrown in his direction, he didn't quite succeed. He nearly impatiently waited for Boss to make his decision. Naturally, Boss raised again and Jack called it. Growling, the other demanded, "What could you possibly have to top my three Tens?" and turned around his hand – Spades Ten and Diamonds King.

"A flush," Jack answered and showed him his hand.

Boss growled at him, hitting his fist onto the pickup's bed, making his chips bounce. "Next round won't be as easily won," he snarled ferociously.

Gulping down his fear and hoping that no one heard his panicked heartbeat, Jack collected the chips before accepting his third hand.

* * *

"Frag, frag, frag, frag, _slag_," Jazz cursed mantra-like while scrambling to his pedes and unsubspacing his laser rifle. Out of the corner of his optics, he noticed his comrades mirroring his actions.

Over the command frequency, Ironhide shot off a quick report about their situation, and almost immediately in response Prowl said, /_Fall back. You cannot win this._/

The Eradicons swarmed out before landing, successfully encircling them. Weapons were drawn and pointed at the three, but miraculously, the enemy didn't immediately attack. /_How about some backup then?_/ Jazz suggested tersely while eyeing the enemy warily, poised to act any moment at the slightest hint. He wouldn't and couldn't leave Optimus undefended; Megatron would kill him instantly.

/_That would be suicide. You're up against _Megatron_. Fall back,_/ Prowl repeated.

/_And what about the wounded?_/ Jazz asked. It felt stupid to argue with the tactician like that, but if it was the only way to break it to Prowl, he had no other choice.

The response he got wasn't what he had been expecting. /_Unfortunate but necessary sacrifice. Hoist says he has no chance at survival anyway. We can barely register his signal. Fall back._/

/_Then you're damning our _Prime_ to death,_/ Jazz sent.

The silence that spread through the comm was deafening.

Jazz's attention was pulled toward the here and now when Megatron transformed just above their helms, hitting the ground a couple of meters away not a moment later. He straightened out – he was taller than Ironhide who only came up to his shoulders – and surveyed the scene with impassive red optics. When he noticed the wounded Optimus at their pedes, his faceplate morphed into a smirk. "Now who do we have here?" he asked with a victorious grin.

Jazz switched the command frequency to listening, thus allowing the bots on the _Ark _to hear what was happening down here. Prowl chose that moment to utter /_That… can't be…_/ in an incredulous tone.

_Believe it, it's true_, Jazz thought. /_So how about we get that backup?_/ he asked once more via the comm.

Prowl audibly hesitated. /_I –_/ he began after a moment before breaking off all of a sudden. Static instead filled the silence, aggressive to the point that it hurt in Jazz's audios. He cringed. Somebot was scrambling their communications, he realized, and he already had an idea who it could be.

The ground trembled slightly when another bot landed directly behind him. Jazz turned around and found himself faceplate to chestplate with Megatron's communications officer. He looked up. "Soundwave," he hissed, his suspicions proven true.

The 'con didn't reply, instead striking as fast as lightning. Jazz dodged him, bringing up his arms in defense, but he was unprepared for the 'con to sneak through his defensive stance with his other servo. Soundwave grabbed him by his throat before squeezing it tightly. Jazz gritted his denta and was about to lift his laser rifle to shoot his enemy, but no sooner than he had the thought, he was already lifted off the ground and flung away. He came to a stop when his back collided with metal. Lifting his optics, he realized he lay at Megatron's pedes, and the Decepticon warlord was smirking down at him. Jazz tried to get up to scramble away, but Megatron simply lifted a pede and placed it on Jazz's chestplate. The pressure made the saboteur grunt and seize all motion to protect himself from a spark chamber breach.

He was thus damned to helplessly watch Ironhide and Wheeljack being tackled by Eradicons who won only thanks to their overwhelming numbers. His comrades were pushed to the ground and held similarly to himself, while Soundwave now had free reign over Optimus. The midnight blue mech reached out and laid a servo on the Prime's chestplate.

Above Jazz, Megatron asked his third-in-command, "Is he still alive?" In response, Soundwave turned toward his leader, his visor displaying the sinus rhythm of a faint spark pulse. Megatron laughed lowly. "Looks like he'll offline without our assistance."

Grinding his denta in frustration, Jazz grabbed Megatron's ankle and tried to push him away. The warlord noticed his attempts and took his pede off Jazz's chestplates. But rather than being let go, the saboteur received a hard kick into his side, making him cry out in pain. The second kick was powerful enough to catapult him away from the Decepticon. A steel beam protruding out of the rubble abruptly stopped his brief flight. He slid down the metal, ending in a heap on the ground. Groaning, he nonetheless forced himself to move into a position where he could keep his enemy within visual range. His sight was slightly impaired with messages clogging up his HUD; apparently, Megatron's kick had ruptured an energon line in his side. His nanites were already working on closing the leak, his system rerouting energy to assist them. Since he needed all energy reserves he still had, Jazz overrode the corresponding subroutines.

With the messages getting fewer, his vision cleared, and he realized that he had ended up close to where he lost his laser rifle when he had earlier been flung toward Megatron. With no bot momentarily paying him much attention, he discreetly reclaimed his weapon – making it look like he tried standing up and failing – and subspaced it. Then he stemmed himself in a position that would allow him best reactivity before looking over to Ironhide.

He met the warrior's optics dead on. No communication passed between them, but after vorns of fighting side by side, they could sort of read each other's thoughts. Ironhide nodded curtly. His plan thus approved, Jazz said, "Doesn't look like we're getting backup so it's up to us to save Prime." Then he sprung to his pedes, unsubspaced his laser rifle and shot two Eradicons holding Ironhide down before the enemy even realized what was happening. True to his nature, Ironhide immediately used the opportunity to free himself. Jazz could then no longer care about his comrade, having to look out for himself if he didn't want to end at the scrapyard.

One of his methods to reach that goal was to spring up and attack Megatron head-on. His attack apparently was unexpected because the Decepticon warlord stared at him with surprise clearly visible in his red optics. Using his probably once in a lifetime chance, Jazz unsubspaced his two daggers and struck. He managed to scratch the larger mech's chestplates twice before Megatron started a counterattack. Jazz had hoped for defensive maneuvers only, but the 'con went all out. He struck him with the back of his servo, powerful enough to force Jazz back. Megatron immediately pursued him and kicked him into his midriff, sending him flying again. He landed next to Optimus this time.

He didn't get back up quickly enough before another kick made him roll onto his back. Groaning and trying to ignore the error messages on his HUD, he squinted up at Megatron. The 'con stood above him, a weapon in servo – one of Jazz's daggers. The tip pointed at his chestplate, directly where his spark was hidden.

With almost clinical detachment Jazz realized that should Megatron strike across that short distance, he would not survive it.

* * *

**Author Note:** Reviews are love. Thanks for reading!


	6. All or Nothing

**Author Note:** Thanks for the feedback, everyone! Reviews always brighten my day and let me write faster.

To reply to a guest's question: Yes, Megatron only has one arm at this point of the story. It's still the same day after the 'cons blew up the Autobots' base.

* * *

– chapter six –

**All or Nothing**

With a Diamonds Two and a Spades Seven Jack had little hope of winning this round, especially when the buddy acting as dealer put down the first cards. And true enough, Boss called all his bluff raises and in the end even finished with a Full House. Wondering when Fortuna had left him, especially after he needed only one more win to get Arcee back, Jack took his fourth hand with mixed feelings.

The outlook was a little better than before; with two Eights, chances weren't that bleak. However, three Sevens later, Boss topped Jack's Full House with a fourth seven.

Smirking victoriously, Boss said, "Final round." It went without saying that Jack had to win now, come what may. He had to have the better hand or Arcee would be taken by them.

Relief didn't begin to describe what he felt when he received a Hearts and Clubs Ace. With a pair of the highest card in the game in hand, he doubted much could go wrong. Boss himself would need a pair of Aces, and even then they'd finish this round even-matched. Exhilarated, Jack raised, but Boss called. The first cards put down nearly sent him into spasms; he had to fight to not betray any of the roller-coasting emotions he felt at the moment.

He had four aces.

Jack could have whooped with joy. Four of a kind. He had four aces and would win this. He would defeat Boss and leave this place with Arcee. He raised by the amount in the pot, trying desperately to hide his world-shaking relief that Fortuna hadn't left him. Boss was regarding him carefully, guardedly, his eyes searching his expression for what felt like eternity. Jack desperately tried to quell his excitement in favor of a poker face, but he felt he didn't always succeed; there were moments where his carefully schooled mask slipped. He nonetheless hoped it was enough to fool Boss.

Instead of quitting, however, Boss called the raise and the next card was put down.

Spades Ten.

Jack raised by the pot's amount, but to his bafflement, Boss didn't fold – nor did he immediately call. He instead hesitated visibly, and his eyes kept swishing back and force, glancing from the open cards in-between them to where Jack's cards lay face-down in front of him and back again. Jack wondered why the other didn't just give up and leave him with Arcee if he apparently was so unsure of his cards. He wouldn't stand a chance anyway, not with his four aces. Nothing could beat that.

But after what felt like eternity, Boss called the raise. The way he moved his chips, however, were a tell-tale sign of how uncertain he was. But there was no going back now. He had accepted Jack's challenge and would have to see it to the end.

The final card to be put down was the Spades Queen.

All the tension radiating off Boss suddenly fell away and utter relief spread through the other. Jack got irritated and carefully studied the cards in front of him.

There was the chance that Boss had a pair of Queens, Tens or Threes, which would get him a Full House. But even if that were the case, Four of a Kind beat Full House. Then Jack noticed that three of the cards were Spades. If Boss had two more, he'd finish with a Flush. Still, Four of a Kind valued more – unless… _No,_ Jack told himself, close to panicking, _that cannot be_._ It's so rare, it's practically unheard of!_ But some nagging feeling settled deep in his guts and wouldn't go away again; Boss had surprised him once, he could surprise him a second time.

Looking down at his stash of chips, Jack decided to go the whole hog and went all in. This was the final round anyway; there was no sense in keeping any chips. He either won – or lost big time. If the other's hand really was what Jack feared, his last hope was that such a big raise would confuse Boss and get him to fold.

But when Jack met the other's eyes, his worst fears proved true. There was a gleam in the brown that just screamed 'victory!'

"Nice try, pub, but the bike's now mine," Boss almost purred and flipped his cards open: Spades King and Spades Jack.

Royal Flush.

Jack stared, dumbfounded, while all around him, the cronies started cajoling and congratulating their leader. One grabbed his two cards and turned them around for everyone to see. Boss started whooping loudly, even more excited at his win. Jack couldn't care less. He had lost. He had been unable to get Arcee back.

Her name was the reminder he needed; he snapped out of his stupor and sharply looked up, tensing on instinct, but that still wasn't quick enough for him to dodge the hands grabbing him by the collar all of a sudden. Two boys pushed him off the pickup's bed and he landed on the asphalt in a huddle. Biting back a groan and trying to ignore the pain shooting up his spine from where he landed on his tailbone, he picked himself up. But the throbbing of his backside slowed him down immensely. By the time he finally stood more or less upright again, the teens had retreated into the pickups and were about to escape.

Jack's gaze zeroed in on where Arcee had been stashed in the one pickup's bed, then he started to move. His advance was slow at first, more a limp than run, and he kept gritting his teeth at every step he took, but eventually – thankfully – the pain subsided a little and he could speed up. But before he reached the pickup, however, the engine was fired up and the car started rolling away. His steps lengthened until he was lightly jogging. Though, the vehicle was accelerating too. Jack pushed himself until he ran as fast as he could. Partly he wished he'd been better at athletics in school. Right now, though, he longed to have Arcee to be faster. With her it would be easy to follow them. But he was alone. He had only his feet to move forward. And eventually, the inevitable happened: Jack had to stop, his chest heaving while he struggled to breathe. His head swam and he felt dizzy from lack of oxygen. He therefore bent forward, supporting his torso with his hands on his thighs to remain standing, while he watched the pickups speed down the road. He felt numb and empty inside. It felt like he'd abandoned Arcee to these maroons. Dread grew in his stomach when he imagined what they might do to her. Maybe tinker with her or – worse! – take her apart to sell the parts. He shuddered, thus nearly missing a soft vibration against his side.

Puzzled, he tried straightening up but ceased moving for the moment because his back protested with agony. Standing awkwardly in the middle of a parking lot in the middle of nowhere, Jack fumbled with his jeans pocket until he succeeded in fishing out his cell phone. He had a new message; it was from Arcee. /_Don't worry about me, Jack, I will be fine._/ After he finished reading, another message came in. /_I know you tried. Thanks._/

It didn't change the situation. Jack could have howled from the frustration, but he knew it wouldn't change a thing. He had to think of what to do now, and think of it fast. The two pickups were already gone from his view.

Tightening his grip on the cell, the solution came so suddenly, he felt like he'd been literally slapped in his face. "Fowler!" he breathed, then frantically began searching the stored numbers. To Hell with Soundwave and his ability to trace calls. He needed help, and he needed it right now. He dialed and was picked up on the second ring.

"Agent Fowler?" he blurted out. "This is Jack, Jack Darby from Jasper, Nevada. I need your help."

* * *

For what felt like eternity, nothing happened. Then the glint in Megatron's optics intensified and the Decepticon warlord raised his arm to strike. Jazz made peace with himself and offlined his optics, unable to watch the manic gleam in Megatron's red ones.

Time seemed to come to a halt while he waited for the end. A mighty roar rose around him, getting louder and louder until his audios hurt. There was a clang, a shout and then a groan. But the end never came. Wondering what the Pit was happening, Jazz onlined his optics again – only to see an Aerial stand over him, between him and Megatron. His torso was slightly bent forward, and a soft tremor ran over the bot's frame. Megatron took a step back, then another before starting to laugh maniacally.

Scrambling onto all four, Jazz moved around the Aerial until he could see who it was. Air Raid. His optics were staring off into nothingness, and no matter what Jazz did, he didn't seem to recognize or even notice him. Worried, Jazz reached out for the other's chassis, but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized why Air Raid was in this shocked state.

Jazz's dagger that Megatron had been pointing at him not a breem ago stuck deep in Air Raid's chestplates. Energon trickled out and almost in slow-motion dropped onto the ground.

"No, Primus, _no_!" Frantically standing up, Jazz put an arm around the Aerial's shoulder. That finally got a reaction out of the young bot. With a scream, he lunged forward and proceeded to beat the Pit out of Jazz's chestplating. Grunting, Jazz grabbed a wrist and held it in a vice-like grip. "Primus, 'Raid, it's me, Jazz. Stop it!" That didn't have any effect. Hating having to do it but unable to think of anything else of how to calm the frenetic Air Raid down, Jazz tightened his grip until he felt the wrist crush. Air Raid's howling changed from fury to agony. It had the desired effect, however, for the young bot seized his lashing out.

He sunk forward, unable to hold himself upright any longer. Jazz caught him and slowly sank onto the ground with him. He turned him around in the process, getting him on his back. Due to their position, Air Raid couldn't be comfortable at the slightest, but it was all Jazz could do. The most important thing right now was to remove the dagger and stabilize him before he offlined.

The fight around Jazz was forgotten while he directed a scan over the Aerial's frame. The results made him groan; the dagger had sliced open the spark chamber. The cut wasn't overly long or wide, but the dagger's tip stuck in the chamber's casing was currently the only thing preventing Air Raid's spark from fading out from loss of compression. "Slag it all to the _Pit_!" Jazz cursed violently, his processors frantically pondering over what to do now. He had never before felt so helpless.

Jet engines thundering past them and an explosion going off too close pulled him out of his haze and let him refocus on their current situation. Jazz looked around; Optimus lay only a couple feet away from him. In the other direction, Ironhide was wrestling with three Eradicons while Wheeljack though wounded was attacking with utmost ferocity, his two swords effectively cutting through metal and wiring. But Jazz noticed happily that Air Raid's brothers had joined their battle. Silverbolt's large frame was easily discernible where he fought against two Eradicons before he went after Starscream, and both Slingshot and Fireflight kept firing at any 'con that moved. He couldn't see Skydive, but he heard the bot's cursing, loud and clear.

A gentle, hesitant touch on his lower arm let his head swivel back around. Air Raid was looking up at him, his optics dimmed. "'pologies for playing the hero," he whispered.

Jazz took the young bot's servo in his own and squeezed it reassuringly. "Don't ya dare offline on meh, ya hear meh?" he warned. "We'll get ya out of here."

Air Raid chuckled before hissing in pain when the movement caused the dagger to slightly shift positions. Jazz put a calming servo on his chassis, asking him to remain still and not dislodge that dagger.

Sudden movement in his periphery made Jazz's head snap up and toward Optimus. The sight let his spark freeze; with all Autobots currently engaged in battle with Eradicons and a Seeker, the Decepticon warlord had no bot stop him from claiming Optimus' mangled frame for himself. Only a few feet behind him, there was a portal of swirling light, similar to the portal of a spacebridge, and Megatron was dragging Optimus toward it.

Wasting precious time, Jazz cursed and glanced at Air Raid. "Go," the young bot muttered. But Jazz was torn. If he left, Air Raid would most likely offline. If he stayed, Megatron would succeed in taking Prime prisoner. Both Jazz and Air Raid knew, however, whose life was the more valuable in this Pit-slagged war. The young Aerial had made his decision. It was now on Jazz to accept it and act accordingly.

"Ah'm sorry, 'Raid," he mumbled while carefully repositioning the young bot to being able to stand, "so sorry."

A servo grabbing his ankle made him pause. "Kill that fragging 'con for me." Before Jazz could promise or even simply nod in response, Air Raid's optics offlined and the bot went still.

He didn't lean back down to confirm whether or not Air Raid had completely offlined or simply fallen into stasis-lock. Fury and pain at the possible loss held his spark in a vice-like grip, fueling his anger for the Decepticons. With a ferocious snarl, Jazz lunged forward without first getting his servos on any sort of weapon. He had no more time to care for that. He had to fight Megatron without any sort of help, come what may. He had to save his Prime.

Before he could reach the Decepticon warlord, however, Soundwave stepped in-between and struck. Jazz was brought off course, but he wouldn't be deterred. As soon as he regained his footing, he engaged again, making a beeline for Megatron, but the Decepticon third-in-command once again blocked his path. Furious for the interception, Jazz dodged Soundwave's blow and in the same motion struck back. He succeeded in hitting the communication officer's midriff twice before Soundwave himself dodged his attack.

The two mechs fought hard, but it soon became clear that the 'con slowly gained the upper servo. Jazz was wounded, ran low on energy and had no weapon at disposal. Soundwave instead was more or less unharmed and armed with not only tentacles but symbiotes too. After receiving a blow against his visor – leaving a crack in the glass – Jazz blinked stupidly for a moment at Soundwave's chestplating before frowning in confusion. He could have sworn it had looked differently just an astrosecond ago. Then he remembered. His head swiveled around and he almost immediately zeroed in on Laserbeak, but it was nonetheless too late. The little symbiote showered him with a laser volley. He raised his arms to protect his chassis and faceplate, but he couldn't prevent being hit elsewhere. And Pit, did that hurt!

Eventually, the fire receded and he turned back around toward Soundwave – only to notice that the bridge's portal was closing in just that instance. Megatron was gone, as was Optimus. He stared for an astrosecond in shock, then first denial and finally rage burned through his spark. "_NO!_" he screamed and once more lunged for Soundwave. The 'con waited calmly for his approach. Blinded by his emotions, Jazz never saw the strike coming. And whilst Jazz was thrown back, sliding over rubble, the 'con jumped into the air, transformed and flew off toward the _Nemesis_. Whatever Eradicon was still alive, followed suit.

A grunt nearby let Jazz look over to where he had last seen Ironhide and Wheeljack. The latter was on the ground, his left pede totally mangled by now, but he still kept shooting at the retreating enemy. Ironhide was still standing, but his vents were heaving. The fight had been tiring and cost them all a lot of energy. None of the Aerials was anywhere in sight. Eventually, when Wheeljack quit shooting and silence settled over the battle scene, Ironhide sank down onto a larger piece of rubble.

Jazz slowly got up and walked over to Air Raid. Fearing for the worst, he was hesitant when he crouched down and reached out. He almost didn't dare find out whether or not the young bot was still online. But then he pulled himself together, reminding himself he was the Autobots' third-in-command, head of special operations and best saboteur. Yes, he cared, but they had lost much more and finer mechs in the past.

Before his servo made contact with Air Raid's chestplates, however, a sparkle caught his attention. Frowning, he glanced over to where he had dug Optimus out of the rubble. Still halfway hidden by the rocks was a large sword. Jazz had no idea how Prime had come by it, but he somehow had the unshakable feeling that it was imperative that he brought the sword onto the _Ark_, no matter what_._


	7. Aliens -

**Author Note:** Good things come to those who wait so… After hectic weeks at work, a periodically fled muse, and me fighting off little mean viruses I present the next chapter. Different to before, it focuses only on Jack. Jazz'll have his own chapter (which is coming very soon, I promise).

Many thanks to those who left feedback so far. I hope you keep enjoying the story. I'm looking forward to read your opinions in reviews.

* * *

– chapter seven –

**Aliens …**

There was silence.

"Agent Fowler?" Jack asked, no longer sounding sure of himself.

"_How did you get this number?_" a voice suddenly asked. The tone was anything but friendly.

Jack frowned. He briefly took the cell away from his ear to check the number; he had called the right person. Then how could he not have reached Fowler?

When he held the cell back to his ear, he caught the man on the other end just asking, "_– name again, boy?_"

"This is Jackson Darby," he answered automatically before adding, "I know Special Agent William Fowler personally. Please, I need to talk to him."

"_You reached Nellis Air Force Base. Agent Fowler is currently unavailable_," the man provided.

Jack cursed mentally. How was he supposed to get Arcee back without some help?

"_Why do you want to speak to Agent Fowler?_" the man on the other end asked. At least they had acknowledged they knew Fowler too, Jack thought.

He weighed his possibilities. If he told them, they could either call him insane and hang up, or contact Fowler for him. Besides, this was about Arcee. Decision made, Jack started to explain, being as vague as possible – just in case they had no knowledge about the Autobots – while still providing as much information as he could without making him sound lunatic.

Once he finished, silence settled over the line. Jack thought for a moment that they had already hung up on him, but another glance at his cell's display showed he was still having a connection. Eventually, the man on the other end said, "_If your… friend is missing, you should call the police, not the Air Force._"

As if they would help him, Jack thought. "I called Agent Fowler, not the Air Force," he barked into the cell, no longer caring about staying polite.

The atmosphere changed palpably. "_Now, young man, no need to become rude._"

But Jack was having none of it. "Thanks for your _help_," he said sarcastically and hung up before the soldier could say anything else. With a deep sigh, he pocketed his cell. _And now?_ he wondered, looking around. Unfortunately, he was still stuck in the middle of nowhere.

The sound of movement caught his attention and he whirled around toward the shop. The vendor was standing in the door and watching him. "Lost, eh?" he asked over the distance when noticing he had Jack's attention. It sounded like a question and invitation at the same time.

Jack closed a little distance between them. "Yeah. And some guys stole my bike."

"I noticed," came the reply.

Jack frowned, feeling anger rising. But rather than demand why he hadn't helped, he asked the vendor, "How far from here to the next police station?" Maybe the cops _would_ help him.

The man snorted. "Won't do you any good. Your bike'll be nothing but spare parts by the time you get to alert someone."

Frown darkening and losing his patience, Jack snapped, "What do you want? Because if you intend to be helpful, you need to practice a little to actually make it sound like that."

The man chuckled. "You sure have guts. I've never before seen anyone challenging Dean getting away unscathed."

"I lost the poker game and they stole my bike. How does that translate as unscathed?"

He shrugged. "Physically." He gestured Jack closer. "I'm about to close the shop and head home. Need a ride?" The question sounded more like a statement.

Jack considered his options. The man seemed innocent enough, and he _did_ need a method of transport out of the boonies. If he got as far as the next settlement – that hopefully had a police station – his outlooks would supposedly be a little brighter than right now. That didn't mean he _liked_ having to revert to outside help. It was supposed to be just him and Arcee. Only now it was just him. Sighing heavily and shrugging, he closed the remaining distance. "Thanks," he grunted, trying to sound grateful even though he didn't really feel like that.

The vendor's hard expression softened a little. "You're welcome." He held the door open to Jack so he slipped past. Once inside, the man held out his hand. "I'm Jonathan Sanders, but call me Jon. What's your name?"

Jack took the offered hand and shook it. However, he intended to call the man Mr. Sanders, despite his invitation to use the nickname. His mother had taught him to always show respect to adults, after all. "Jackson Darby, though everyone calls me Jack."

"Jack. Nice to meet you." Mr. Sanders gestured at the lunch box he still carried with him. "Aren't you hungry?"

Looking down, Jack had to admit he had totally forgotten about it already being dinner time. "Not really," he said after a moment, because after the 'excitement' of Arcee's botnapping, he had lost any appetite. Besides: "Gonna save it for later." No need to admit he was broke too and wouldn't be able to buy more food.

Mr. Sanders shrugged before gesturing toward the shelves. "Choose something else, it's on me. The least I can do is not let you starve."

Jack usually wasn't for accepting stranger's help, but he could make an exception in his current case. He stood and went back to the shelf with the food packages. He carefully considered his options and picked out another lunch package, this one containing bacon, scrambled eggs and sausages. When he turned around, he saw Mr. Sanders throwing something in his direction. He only caught whatever due to reflexes honed thanks to his work at KO Burgers – and dodging Decepticon attacks.

It was another can of coke. "Thanks," he said, and this time felt the gratitude. He might not be hungry, but he was thirsty. He cracked the can open and took a large gulp.

Mr. Sanders smiled. "You're welcome. If you'll grab your stuff? I'm closing the shop and heading home."

…

The drive wasn't even ten minutes. They passed mostly in silence. Only when Mr. Sanders was about to leave the city center again – if you could actually call Lucas a city – Jack asked, "Do you know where they usually hide stolen goods?"

Mr. Sanders sent him a side glance that seemed curious. "Dean's gang? Not really, no, but there ain't too much places here they could use so…" He trailed off with a shrug.

"Could you show me the most likely?" Jack asked.

"Sure." And Mr. Sanders turned around in the middle of the – thank God otherwise empty – street and headed back half the way they came through before turning down another road.

It led to a collection of barns. Most of them were run-down from weather; only two looked like they could withstand the next gust of wind without collapsing like a card house. Mr. Sanders parked on the far side of the road and Jack glanced over to the buildings without getting out. Nothing moved – neither did anything suggest that the barns had seen human company in quite a while. But as Jack knew only far too well from own experience, there was always more than met the eye.

Mr. Sanders didn't speak for several long moments, giving Jack time to think what to do next. However, eventually, he asked, "What do you wanna do now?"

Shrugging, Jack had to admit to his own chagrin, "To be honest, I have no idea." He sighed and slumped down in his seat. At this rate, he'd never get Arcee back.

Mr. Sanders, however, had no calms; he opened the door, got out and was halfway to the barns before Jack realized what the man was doing. Scrambling out of the car, Jack hurried after him. "What are you doing?" he asked, feeling slightly panicked.

The man shrugged. "Anything." And with that, he reached the barn door – and knocked.

Jack froze and stared.

For a moment, nothing happened, then there was the sound of steps coming closer, and shortly afterward, the door was wrenched open. Boss— Dean stared at the vendor, clearly surprised. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

Jack blinked. _Dad? Mr. Sanders was Dean's father?_

"You had your fun, now give back the bike you stole," Mr. Sanders said calmly but authoritatively.

Dean quickly recovered from the shock. He frowned darkly. "Since when do you care what I do or don't?" he demanded.

"You're still my son. And I taught you better than to steal other people's possessions."

"The pub wasn't suited to ride such a sleek ride," Dean said snobbishly. He just then noticed Jack standing close by. He snorted and addressed his father again. "I see you brought backup." Not giving him a chance to comment, Dean turned around and shouted into the barn, "Guys, the pub's here to demand back his bike." Laughter filtered out from the barn. Dean looked back at Jack with a smirk. "You see, my friends agree with my assessment. I think I'll keep that bike."

So far Jack had hung back, trying to stay out of it but also putting his hopes in Mr. Sanders. However, as things stood, the father had no control over his son, and the one suffering was Arcee. Jack couldn't accept that; he had to act for the femme's sake. He therefore stepped forward and, gathering all his courage and authority he possessed, said to the teen, "By keeping that bike you put yourself and your friends in grave danger. I'm not joking or bluffing. In your best interest, you better hand h— it back to me."

For a moment, Dean appeared to actually consider handing back Arcee. But the moment was over far too son, and Dean graced Jack with another smirk. "And what kind of danger shall that be?" he asked snidely.

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it until you've seen it with your own eyes," Jack replied, suddenly feeling detached, like it didn't really concern him. In a way it didn't; _let them meet the 'cons. Let them suffer the consequences._ But his self-consciousness wouldn't allow that. He couldn't let outsiders come to harm, even ones as rude as Dean.

When the teen failed to verbally reply, only dissolving into a laughing fit that bordered on hysterical, Mr. Sanders put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Come on, boy, let's go. You're not getting anywhere like this." And when Jack looked up at him, he winked conspiratorially. Jack frowned; could he really trust that stranger, even if he had so far been helping him?

Before Jack could make a decision, Dean chortled, "I suppose you're going to say 'If I told you, I'd have to kill you.'"

Pulled out of his train of thought, Jack shook his head and turned to leave. "That won't be necessary. Someone else will do that if you keep the bike." To Mr. Sanders he said, "You're right, we should leave."

They didn't get far. "What do you mean?" Dean shouted after them. He didn't sound as much scared as curious.

"You'll see," Jack called back over his shoulder. "And you won't be able to say I didn't try to warn you." When he looked away again, several things happened at once.

The first Jack noticed was an engine snarl coming from within the barn, followed immediately by a pained yelp. The engine roar became louder and got closer, but over the sounds Arcee made, Jack clearly heard Dean ask, "What the hell are you doing?" The next moment, he too yelped, but more in surprise than pain. Then Arcee's alt came into view, heading directly for Jack.

However, she didn't stop next to him, instead continuing on. To Jack's confusion and horror, she transformed, unsubspaced her weapons and shouted, "All of you, find cover."

And then another engine sound joined them before the ground shook when something huge landed on Mr. Sanders' car with a mighty crash. Arcee didn't wait for the newcomer to take a look around before diving forward and attacking the bulky mech with all she got. Jack, Mr. Sanders and the teens, however, stared for a moment, transfixed, before an explosion in front of them scattered them with shouts of surprise and fear. Things happened in a blur, and Jack suddenly found himself crouched down behind the barn's edge – next to Dean.

The teen's eyes' expression was wild. "What is going on here?" he shouted over the noise of the fight, sounding like he'd seen the most horrible thing on Earth. His voice wavered and was much too high.

Jack felt pity for him; the teen had no idea into what he had so ignorantly stumbled. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but sound smug when he said, "I tried to warn you."

"What are those… things?" Dean continued his line of questions.

Before Jack could think of a reply – because he even now couldn't tell the truth, could he? – one of Dean's comrades came running over to them. His expression too was anything but cool and relaxed. "You have to see this, boss," he panted, his voice unnaturally high. He held out a smartphone on which a TV station was transmitting the latest news. The headlines were streaming by at the top and bottom of the screen, but Jack's gaze fell immediately on the object in the middle. It looked unlike anything he'd ever seen and seemed to be completely made out of metal. The top touched the clouds, giving him an approximate impression of the unnatural height. With difficulty Jack directed his eyes on the background, needing to find out where exactly that alien construction was located. It took a moment for him to identify the area, but when he recognized his hometown, he was shocked. Yes, he knew the situation back home looked dire, what with the Decepticons having invaded Jasper, but that it was that out of control took him by surprise.

Dean stared at the sight on the little display. "What the heck is going on out there? Are we being invaded by aliens or what?"

Any other time Jack would have answered something along the line of 'You're imagining things. Aliens? Pshaw!' But all that came out now was "I have no idea."


	8. - or Allies?

**Author Note:** Many thanks to Golden Angel 1 for leaving a review for the last chapter. I'm glad you enjoy the story. :)

**Legend:**

"speech" - English  
"_**speech**_" - Cybertronian

"bla bla" - normal speech  
/blab la/ - comm speech

I reckon the bots would use their mother tongue when among themselves, so I so far didn't need to distinguish it from English, but now that they're going to meet their first humans, it has become necessary.

And now please enjoy the next installment.

* * *

– chapter eight –

… **or Allies?**

_**Jazz?**_

He didn't know how long he sat motionless. Hearing his designation pulled him out of his trance and he glanced up.

There was no bot there. He frowned.

/_**Jazz.**_/

He finally recognized the voice. _Comm_, he thought belatedly before mentally chastising himself. With Soundwave gone, the radio contact to the _Ark_ had been reestablished. Then he did a double-take, his head snapping up toward where the _Ark_ hovered in the distance. There was no sign of the _Nemesis_ anymore, but the damage it left along the _Ark_'s hull was clearly visible, even from where he sat. If the flickering light along the hull was anything to go by, they had lost their shield – or were about to lose it – and smoke rose from where one of the engines was located; it had most likely been blown up by the 'cons. _Disabled?_ Jazz thought but never voiced it out loud for over the command frequency, the head engineer just then delivered his report, confirming his thoughts.

The _Ark_ was sitting ducks, and there was no way the 'cons wouldn't know it. But why they had retreated rather than attacking was puzzling.

Jazz therefore turned around toward the Cybertronian construction in the hopes of finding the answer; the _Nemesis_ was heading toward it, but the mystery about its retreat remained unsolved.

/_**Jazz, please respond!**_/

Redirecting his gaze toward the _Ark_, he sent, /_**Prowler,**_ _**whassup?**_/

Rather than irritation at the much disliked nickname, the tactician's next words contained palpable relief. /_**What's going on down there?**_/

Jazz caught movement out of the corner of his optics and looked to his left; Ironhide was slowly making his way over to them. He made a gesture that indicated he'd heard the little dialogue and asked his commanding officer to answer the question. So Jazz gave a brief report, though without omitting the most important details. When he reached the point of Air Raid's sacrifice, Ironhide had arrived with them and crouched down. Jazz fell silent, anxious to know whether the aerial was still alive or not.

Ironhide's examination was brief. Instead of reporting the results, however, he asked via comm, /_**Where are 'Raid's brothers?**_/

/_**'Bolt's still chasing 'Screamer,**_/ Blaster sent.

/_**Fireflight returned with Skydive,**_/ Prowl continued. /_**Both are wounded and currently in emergency surgery in medbay. We lost contact with Slingshot.**_/

Jazz searched Ironhide's expression but the old warrior was unreadable. Prowl asked before the saboteur could, /_**Is Air Raid still online? We can no longer perceive his signal.**_/

As if that was what he had needed to hear, Ironhide stood. /_**He didn't make it.**_/ Jazz hung his head, grief tearing at his spark and clouding his vision for the moment. The silence on the command frequency was just as heavy as his thoughts.

/_**What happened to Optimus?**_/ Blaster inquired into the silence. /_**I read his signal for quite some time, but then it vanished. Did he…?**_/ He hesitated voicing out loud what everybot aboard the _Ark_ surely was thinking.

/_**Megatron claimed him,**_/ Jazz said. /_**I suppose wherever they took him, his signal is shielded, but he still had a spark pulse last I checked.**_/ The silence that now fell was no longer as heavy but slightly relieved. As long as Prime lived, there was hope for the Autobots.

Ironhide stood. "_**Let's leave,**_" he said. "_**There's no telling when the 'cons will be back.**_"

Jazz agreed, but not without another glance at the sword he'd discovered. He pointed at it, catching his comrade's attention. "_**That's Prime's. We have ta take it.**_" Ironhide grunted.

However, when Jazz bent down to pick it up, he couldn't lift it. He thought it was still too stuck and went to remove more rubble, but a second try ended as fruitless as the first. "_**Fraggit,**_" he grumbled and gestured at Ironhide. "_**Help meh, please.**_"

But even with two sets of strong servos they were unable to pick up the sword, only move it a little.

Standing straight, Jazz frowned at the weapon. "_**What the slag is with that sword?**_" he asked no bot in particular.

Wheeljack hobbled over. "_**I saw Optimus wielding it shortly before they evacuated the base, but that's all I know.**_"

Jazz contacted Perceptor, deliberately using the command frequency so that the other officers could listen in. /_**Are the ship sensors still functioning?**_/

The scientist answered immediately. /_**No, they're all down. Only Autobot transmitter signals are still being tracked.**_/

Grumbling, the saboteur sent a visual of the sword. /_**Any idea what that is and why we can't move it?**_/

There was silence for quite some time. When Perceptor spoke again, his transmitted voice had a ring of awe to it. /_**Primus. I never thought I'd ever see such holy artifact…**_/

Jazz waited for several moments for the scientist to continue, but just when Perceptor was about to speak again, a steadily growing thudding sound caught both Jazz's and Ironhide's attention. They simultaneously silenced the scientist and looked up.

For a crazy moment, they thought it was Blades, but they dismissed the impression quickly enough; for one, the quickly advancing aircraft only resembled Blades on first glance. But more importantly, both Jazz and Ironhide had been present when the Protectobot had been deactivated by the servos of the Star Seekers in their last battle. Blades had gone back to the Well of All Sparks, and whatever aircraft was drawing near was no Cybertronian as it didn't fly by itself but was navigated by an organic. The same applied to the servoful Seeker-lookalike flight capable vessels that appeared behind the Blades-similar one. They approached from the lower horizon and with their higher speed soon overtook the gyroplane; their engines snarled just like the ones of the Seeker jets.

"_**What do you reckon we're dealing with?**_" Ironhide asked Jazz while the strange jets screamed overhead before turning around. The warrior never let them out of his sight, nervously fingering the trigger on his cannons.

The saboteur shrugged, simultaneously craning his head. "_**Guess we'll find out soon enough.**_"

Soon enough was not two breems later. The gyroplane landed nearby whilst the Seeker-lookalikes remained in the air, flying a more or less steadily rotating circle around the scene of former battle. Jazz eyed the aircrafts warily but none of his sensors reported back that they were powering up weapons. He still didn't relax, remaining alert for all eventualities, and so did Ironhide.

His attention snapped back toward the gyroplane when a door opened and the organic pilot got out. The bipedal creature was small, barely reaching Jazz's knees were he standing, but it bore itself with great dignity and a no-nonsense air. _So that's how the local specimen look like_, Jazz thought with a mix of guardedness and curiosity. He watched the little creature come closer, and then it opened what he thought must be its mouth.

The sounds it made were totally incomprehensible.

"_**Eh?**_" Ironhide made and frowned.

Cocking his head, Jazz asked via comm, /_**Hey, Blaster,**_ _**can ya get us language files? Can't understand the gibberish.**_/ Only then he realized he still had the command frequency running on listening mode; the bots aboard the _Ark_ had heard everything since Soundwave's departure.

The communications expert's amusement was obvious when he replied, /_**On it. Give me a couple of breems.**_/

/_**We should probably all integrate it,**_/ Prowl sent. /_**Seems we're going to stay on this planet so it should be helpful to understand the local specimen.**_/

It took Blaster a while to send the data files and Jazz a moment longer still to process them. Judging from the flickering of his optics, Ironhide too had received the language files and was assimilating them. But once Jazz received notification that the integration was complete and he turned his attention back to the crea— human, what i— he was saying suddenly made sense.

"—art of the same team," the man was just saying before he fell silent. When they didn't immediately respond, his expression turned into a frown. After a moment, he added, "So are you or not?" He sounded a little irritated.

Jazz straightened out of his crouch, fully aware that his movement put the humans in front of him and in the Seeker-lookalike aircrafts – jets, he corrected himself – on edge. "Mah apologies. Ah didn't want ta be rude. Ah didn't catch what ya said beforehand." He pointed at his audio receptors. "Weren't attuned ta yar language 'til now."

The man grumbled something unintelligible and opened his mouth to say something when Wheeljack interrupted him with, "They fought against the 'cons. That's all I need to know."

For the moment, Wheeljack had the man's undivided attention when he looked him over, his frown deepening. "You look bad," the man eventually said.

Wheeljack snorted. "That's not even half the worst I ever had." He heaved himself up onto a flat piece of debris and emitted a groan of relief once he sat still and could stretch out his legs. Jazz noticed he'd stopped leaking energon, though he still looked worse for wear.

"Ratchet'll get that fixed," the man said before turning to take a sweeping look around. "He got out, didn't he?" For the first time since meeting him, he sounded uncertain.

The Wrecker grunted, "I hope so. Otherwise I got blown out of the sky for nothing."

Jazz exchanged a glance with Ironhide before saying, "We encountered no bot but one within the debris."

The man perked up visibly at that. "Who?" he asked in a demanding tone.

"Optimus Prime," Wheeljack answered before Jazz could.

Though the saboteur added, "Before getting onto the ground, his signal was the only one we picked up at this location. The others spread out over this…" He trailed off, unsure whether he could simply say 'landmass.' But a quick consultation of his new language files revealed a better option for him to use. "… continent."

"I see…" That was followed by a deep sigh. When the man met their gazes, he opened his mouth to say something, but was once again interrupted – this time by a weird ringing tone. With a frown, he reached into a pocket and picked out a small device which he held to his head after giving it a cursory glance. "Agent Fowler here," he barked. There was a split-moment silence before Jazz heard some buzzing noise emit from the device. He frowned in confusion.

"_**It's a device the humans use for communications,**_" Wheeljack explained quietly. Both Jazz and Ironhide looked at him. "_**They call it **_'cell phone'_**. It works similar to our comms.**_"

"_**Ah,**_" Ironhide made non-committedly. He and Jazz turned back to the human, the latter maxing his audio reception to being able to hear what the caller said.

The man – Agent Fowler – just then asked, "What did he say his name was?" He sounded incredulous.

"_Jackson Darby from Jasper, Nevada._" The man paused before adding, "_He said he knew you personally._" There was a question behind the words. If Agent Fowler heard it, he ignored it.

Instead, he said, "He called from his cell?"

"_Yes. We have a lock on it and can track it anytime._"

Agent Fowler nodded, radiating satisfaction but frowning darkly at the same time. Jazz was half-bewildered, half-amused that humans could display such conflicting emotions. "He said his friend's been kidnapped? I have a hunch who his friend is." He paused, only to take a deep breath, before he ordered the man on the other end of the line, "Take a squad and retrieve both the boy and his friend. If you have to mount a search and rescue, do it. I want both on base pronto."

"_But, sir –_"

"No 'buts.' Move it!"

"_Yessir!_" The line clicked and fell silent.

Jazz raised an optic ridge questioningly. But before he could ask what was on his processor, Wheeljack snorted and said, "Wasn't Arcee supposed to watch out for Jack, not the other way 'round?"

Agent Fowler shrugged and grunted non-committedly. "At least we have a lock on their proximate location. Makes it easier to get them back. Can't say the same about the others."

Jazz frowned. "What others?"

"Team Prime," Agent Fowler answered. He gave Jazz and Ironhide a long look over. "You're of the same team, aren't you?"

Finally understanding what the soldier had asked them at the very beginning, Jazz stood at full height and covered his spark with a servo – and, thus, the faction insignia. "We are Autobots and fight the Decepticons," he said solemnly. Ironhide imitated him, as did Wheeljack a moment later.

And although the three bots towered over Agent Fowler, he didn't seem intimidated. If anything, he radiated solemnity. "Welcome to Earth," he said.

Relaxing in his stance, Jazz allowed a grin to work its way into his features. "Thanks. My designation's Jazz, First Lieutenant to Optimus Prime. And my companion here is Ironhide, our weapons specialist."

"Special Agent William Fowler with the Defense Intelligence Agency of the United States." He looked at them again, evaluating, assessing. "You're our enemy's enemy, so I suppose we'll be allies in this war," he said after several long moments of silence.

Jazz wanted to respond, wanted to say it would be an honor working together. He never got around to it.

The only warning they had was a static-laden scream over the command frequency, making both the saboteur and weapons specialist cringe before looking up. And just in time too.

A bright reddish energy beam cut through the sky –

– and hit the _Ark_'s stern dead center, immediately blowing up what remained of the ship's engines. Jazz and Ironhide stood frozen, staring in disbelief when the explosion raced along the hull until the entire _Ark_ was covered in a huge fireball. A tower of smoke rose heavenward while the ship-turned-fireball quickly lost height. A spark pulse later, whatever remains of the _Ark_ survived the engines' detonation crashed onto the ground, erupting in a second, even bigger explosion.

* * *

**Author Note:** *devilish grin* Let me know what you think please! See you with the next update.


	9. Rugged

**Author Note:** Many thanks to everyone who left feedback in form of reviews and/or setting the story to alerts and/or favorites. My apologies for the longish wait but my muse deserted me somewhere around Easter. Now that I have her back, I can continue writing and updating.

Seeing that the beginning of season 3 of the show was already aired, Transformers Prime: Stardust can - and must - be considered AU. I hope you still like where I take the story though. :)

Please enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

– chapter nine –

**Rugged**

Jack's attention was pulled away from the news and drawn back to the fight when he heard a heavy thud, followed by laser fire. Then Arcee cried out. Her scream was unlike anything he had ever heard before, though; it sounded like claws being grated over a blackboard. Immediately afterward, there was a crash and Arcee screamed again before the sound was cut off abruptly.

The silence descending over them was ringing in Jack's ears, unnaturally loud after the noise of the fight. Gulping down his anxiety, he carefully crept closer to the barn's edge until he was able to peek around the corner. What he saw worried him: Arcee lay on the ground, unmoving, and the strange mech was nowhere to be seen. Moving at snail's pace, Jack leaned forward until he had a clear view along the long side of the barn. There, in the shadow of the building, leaning against the wall, stood the mech. Energon was oozing out of several cuts, but Jack saw they weren't deep. The mech wouldn't deactivate from energon loss anytime soon.

Looking back to Arcee, Jack noticed that she was struggling to bring her optics back online, and over the ringing in his ears he caught the stuttering of her vents. Jack sighed in relief; his partner was still alive.

A finger tapping on his shoulder drew his attention. Looking back, he met Dean's frightened expression. "What's going on?" the teen mouthed.

Even if he had had an answer at the ready, Jack wouldn't have told Dean the truth. Fact was, he didn't know himself who that mech was and why he and Arcee had been fighting. From what Jack could discern, the stranger didn't bear the Decepticon insignia, but neither did he appear to be an Autobot. Who was he and what did he want? How did he find them? Questions over questions, and Jack had no answer to any of them.

His reply to Dean was therefore only a shrug.

Of course, the teen didn't settle for an 'I don't know.' "That blue… _thing_ was your motorcycle," he snarled, still speaking quietly enough so that only Jack heard him. Nonetheless, he had regained a little of his earlier snobbery. "You have to know _something_."

Turning around to fully face him, Jack got right in his face. "_You_ wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't stolen my 'bike.' I warned you something bad would happen if you kept it, but you still didn't listen. This situation is entirely your fault so _shut the hell up_!" Incredible anger soared through him and momentarily clouded his mind. He had the indescribable desire to hit Dean.

Before he could do something as stupid as beat up the other, Mr. Sanders put a restraining hand on Dean's shoulder. "Jack's right, son, and you know it so drop it. Instead, let's worry about how to get out of here." His voice was calm and he appeared relaxed, but the look he sent Jack clearly said the opposite. Different to the teen, however, the man knew where the priorities lay.

But Jack couldn't, no matter what they did or said. The Autobots weren't his secret to share. If he told them everything he knew about giant alien robots on Earth, they'd be in danger. But even though he hated Dean for having brought them into this situation and felt angry at someone like never before, he couldn't risk their innocence. He had to protect them to the best of his abilities.

That was easier thought than done though, especially when Dean was about to shoot off a snappy comeback. Thankfully, Mr. Sanders noticed and intervened, resulting in a whispered yet heated argument between father and son. Jack couldn't care any less about family disputes and stopped listening, letting their voices fade to background noise.

Besides, his full attention was just then drawn back toward the strange mech for he started speaking and the sounds he made didn't resemble any language spoken on Earth. He was emitting chirrups, clicks and whirs, thus somewhat resembling Bumblebee, even if only distantly. To Jack's immense surprise, Arcee responded likewise, her voice differing like day and night to what he was used to with her; there was nothing human in it, only mechanical sounds. Jack was worried that something might be wrong with his friend and partner, but after another moment, the scales fell from his eyes: the two bots were using their mother tongue! _No wonder I didn't realize that before,_ Jack thought. _I've never before heard any of the Autobots speak Cybertronian._ As far as he knew, they all used English, even when among themselves. (He might be mistaken with the latter, would only know for certain if he asked any of the Autobots, though.)

While Jack might not be having a clue what Arcee and the stranger were talking about, he at least knew their tones were civil for now rather than aggressive. He hoped it stayed that way, fearing for Arcee's life if the stranger decided to attack her once more, and settled for watching the scene while trying to come up with an escape plan that didn't include divulging the Autobots' secret to Dean and company.

Arcee eventually succeeded in fully bringing her optics back online and started to get up. Her movements were slow, and Jack wasn't certain whether it was because of her wounds or to not provoke the stranger to attack her again. All the while she was talking to the mech, her tone imploring. Jack hoped she was trying to get him on their side.

Another tap on his shoulder forced Jack to look back to Dean who had apparently stopped discussing with his father. "What?" Jack growled. Didn't the teen realize that what was happening between Arcee and the stranger was more important than his trivial inquiries?

"Shouldn't we call, you know, the cops? Or someone else?"

If the situation weren't so dire, Jack would have snorted. Instead, he sighed in exasperation. "To have them do what?" he asked the other in return. "Shoot them? In case you didn't notice, they have weapons as tall as we are."

"I know _that_," Dean snarled back. "But they might have another, secret weapon to fight giant robots." Jack raised his eyebrows incredulously, so the teen added, "They're always experimenting. They might have found something effective."

This time, Jack _did_ snort. "Yeah, sure. Dream on."

But Dean was undeterred. "How would you know? You don't work for the government," he argued.

A sudden sharp whistling caught everyone's attention before Jack had the chance to respond. They looked up and spied a handful of fighter jets quickly coming closer. _Decepticons! _Jack thought panicked and froze. _They found us._ But then he recognized an insignia on the tail fin: United States Air Force. He relaxed again, breathing a sigh in relief.

However, the very next moment, the barn behind them exploded. The resulting shock wave knocked everyone off their feet and sent them sprawling to the ground. People were screaming, whether in pain or fear – or both – Jack couldn't tell. He tried pushing himself up with his arms but hissed in pain and sank back down with a groan. His hands and forearms were covered in blood and dirt where he had skidded over the gravel. Suppressing the urge to vomit at the sight, he tried once again to get back up to his feet. His knees were shaking and felt like Jell-O.

That immediately went forgotten when he laid eyes on Arcee's motionless frame not too far away. "Arcee!" he called out, worried for his friend. He went over as fast as he could – hobbled more like though; he apparently had twisted an ankle too and his left knee was throbbing painfully – and crouched down next to her. He carefully put his hand on her shoulder and gently tried shaking her. "Arcee?"

Her optics flickered online and she slowly turned her head to look at him. "Jack, run," she brought out in a pained groan.

But he couldn't leave her behind like this. "No," he said with determination, "I'm not leaving without you."

Before Arcee could reply, another whistling sound cut through the air. Jack wanted to look up to see what was happening. He didn't get the chance, however, because Arcee suddenly grabbed him and pulled him down. A moment later he was glad because she thus shielded him from the shrapnel when a second barn exploded and another shock wave whooshed over them. Then, over the ringing in his ears, Jack made out the thudding sounds of an approaching helicopter. He desperately needed to know what was going on and fought against Arcee's hold, but she kept his head pressed down. "Stay where you are," she said sternly, her tone dismissing any discussion.

Though Jack wanted to protest at first, he thought better of it when in just that moment he recognized the sounds of transformation behind them. The killing shot he anticipated never came, though. Instead, the mech started firing on the fighter jets.

The pilots immediately retaliated and issued a carpet bombing. Jack covered his head with his hands, crunched his eyes shut and pressed as closely against Arcee as he could. Even over the noise of the explosions, however, he could clearly make out a mechanic scream before it cut off abruptly.

Before he fully knew what was going on, Arcee suddenly sprung up and pulled Jack with her. She transformed mid-leap, apparently ignorant to her injuries, and even somehow managed that he ended up astride the seat. And whilst she raced away from the scene of battle, Jack clung to her for dear life.

Arcee stopped only when they were long out of town and once again in the middle of nowhere. She chose a secluded patch along the road. As soon as Jack had dismounted, he sunk onto the ground because his legs wouldn't carry him any longer. His hands were shaking; apparently, he was in shock.

Arcee transformed and knelt down to look him in the eye. "Everything's all right, Jack," she said softly, soothingly. "We're safe."

"I hope so," he mumbled in reply. He had had enough excitement for one day to last him for the rest of a lifetime.

They sat in silence for a couple of moments. It gave Jack the time to calm down again and process the most recent events. When he remembered the strange mech, his head snapped up to look at Arcee. He had totally forgotten about her injuries in the explosions and following hasty getaway. He immediately zeroed in on scrapes stretching from her left shoulder to the middle of her stomach and grimaced. "I'm sorry, Arcee," he said.

She glanced down herself in confusion, then shrugged. "Just a couple of dents and scratches. Nothing that won't heal."

"But I saw you lying unmoving on the ground!" Jack protested.

Arcee held up her hands. "Don't worry, Jack. He scored a hit, but I rerouted some energy and am as fit as before."

He opened his mouth for another protest, but the helicopter thudding reached their ears again. Jack looked up with a mildly rising panic, but Arcee was calmness personified. "Don't worry," she repeated when the helicopter made to land close-by. Jack didn't know whether she meant her injuries or the helicopter, but got a clarification when she added, "That's the United States Air Force. I suppose Agent Fowler sent these men."

Jack prayed to whatever deity listened that his partner was right.

…

"… And Agent Fowler really ordered you to come look for us?" Jack asked for what felt like the hundredth time since the chopper had taken him and Arcee – in alt-mode of course – aboard, but only because he still couldn't believe he should be this lucky after what happened so far that day.

The soldier treating the cuts on his arms and palms obviously struggled not to roll his eyes, but he managed. Barely, but Jack couldn't care any less at the moment. "Indirectly, but yes," the man confirmed and exchanged the cloth with which he cleaned his cuts for a package of Band-Aids.

Leaning back, Jack muttered, "Cool." After a brief pause of silence, he added, "Heh. I knew he was all right."

This time the soldier did roll his eyes, but there also was a small smile gracing his lips.

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

They were brought to Offutt Air Force Base. It wasn't their final destination, however. A transport plane was already waiting on the tarmac to carry them to wherever Agent Fowler was currently leading operations from.

Where the helicopter had been cramped for Arcee, she could now travel with comfort. She sat in robot mode next to Jack, providing company as well as a shoulder to lean on. They talked for a while about anything and nothing at all before eventually lapsing into contented silence. It gave Jack the time to fully realize that they were safe and headed to a military base that would be able to provide the necessary protection from the Decepticons. But that also inevitably reminded him that not everyone was as lucky. How were his friends faring? His mom? And what about Dean, his friends and, most importantly, Mr. Sanders?

"A penny for your thoughts," Arcee said softly, interrupting his musings.

He sighed. "Just wondering what became of Mr. Sanders et al," he voiced out loud his latest train of thought. He was grateful for the man's help after being stranded by Dean and company and didn't want him to come to harm.

"They're fine," came the relatively quick reply. He looked up at her, and when their eyes met, she smiled. "I overheard the soldiers that picked us up when they communicated with the jet pilots who stayed behind."

Jack frowned. "Really? I heard nothing at all."

Arcee's smile morphed into a grin. She tapped the side of her helm and said, "Radio transmissions ran on a frequency I monitored in case the others tried contacting us."

"Oh." That explained things of course. "What'll happen now? I mean, they've seen you and this… mech. Who was that anyway?"

Arcee chuckled. "Let me answer one question after the other. Mr. Sanders, Dean and his friends will most likely have to sign NDA's."

"NDA?" he asked. He had heard that before but couldn't remember where or when.

"Non-disclosure agreement. They mustn't tell anyone what they've seen or heard."

He frowned again. "We didn't have to sign those when Fowler first discovered us at your base."

"Well, you were under our guardianship and telling the secret would have been counterproductive for your own safety."

"True," he had to admit.

"Besides," Arcee added, "Optimus vouched for you."

His eyes widened in incredulity. "Really? Woah." That was news to him. He'd always believed that the bots trusted them – and Optimus more than the rest of his team (especially after he entrusted the Key to Vector Sigma to Jack) –, but he would never have expected Optimus to vouch for someone he barely knew. When he looked up at Arcee, he was met with a fond smile. He couldn't help but return it. She had become more than just his guardian.

She was his best friend.

"So what of the stranger you fought?" he inquired. "Who was that? Anyone of the Autobots?"

She sighed wistfully. "I wish, but no. That was one of the Star Seekers." He only needed to raise his eyebrows questioningly for her to add, "They're a group of Cybertronian pirates that hunt any and all Cybertronian they can find."

"Huh?" he made incredulously. "Isn't that like… contradictory? Why hunt your own species?"

Wry humor laced Arcee's next words. "Why do human bounty hunters target other humans?" she rhetorically asked. Jack grimaced, but before he could say something along the line of 'Point taken,' she explained in a sober tone, "The Star Seekers come from a planet that once belonged to our empire during the Golden Age. We had back then spacebridges to connect Cybertron with colonies on various planets. However, when the spacebridges failed, the colonies went lost – and over time forgotten.

"The Star Seekers' planet, Lithone, derived its energy out of geothermal power, enabling them to continue on even without the energon supply from Cybertron. That proved fatal in the end; they exploited their planet until it imploded. The only survivors were those stationed on the satellites and off-world mining stations. They henceforth hated all Cybertronians for abandoning them and allowing their world to die, and with it many sparks."

Jack was baffled. He hadn't known Cybertron had once been the center of an entire empire. He wondered how many worlds had been part of it, and how many more remained. Would their inhabitants hate the Cybertronians too for something they couldn't prevent? "But how could you have helped them without functioning spacebridges?" he wondered out loud.

"We couldn't."

"So tell them." It would be the easiest way, and no one else would ever have to fight again – at least outside the war between Autobots and Decepticons.

Arcee sighed. "We tried, but their hate has been an integrated part in both their processors and sparks for centuries. We can't make them see reason. Believe me, we tried. Various times." She sounded weary.

Jack put his hand on hers and squeezed it comfortingly – or what he would call squeezing. With her hand consisting of metal, he stood no chance to ever being able to actually squeeze it, but he hoped she nonetheless understood the intention behind it. He received a thankful smile in return.

"So how do you know so much about them anyway?" he asked, hoping to distract her.

She shrugged. "We learned bits and bytes from them, and pieced together the rest. We traveled to Lithone, only to find the place devoid of the planet that once was there. That was the confirmation of our assumptions about their background we needed."

"With 'we' you mean Team Prime?"

She shook her head. "No, the crew of the _Ark_."

Jack blinked. "_Ark_?"

"A spaceship, not unlike the _Nemesis_ regarding the size_._" Arcee stared off into nothingness. "Optimus, Ratchet, Bulk and 'Bee were aboard. In fact, that's how they came here." She sighed. "Cliff and I only joined them at a later stage. We came to Earth via a spacebridge."

_Such a large spaceship is too big to be commandeered by only four bots_, Jack thought. But that would mean more Autobots weren't too far away… or were they? "So where is the _Ark_ now?" he asked, hope growing that reinforcements were indeed on their way to help them fight off the Decepticons.

Arcee let her head fall back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "If only I knew…"


	10. Deceivers

**Author Note:** Many thanks to _**Dragon Force Ranger**_ and _**XLizardXQueenX**_ for now following this story and to _**I'm Yu**_, _**Gamoora**_, _**McCrane55**_, _**anonex**_ and _**Xireana Zetsubou**_ for having set this story as their favorite.

I'm a little sad that no one took a moment to leave a review. Reviews not only provide feedback for an author, they're also incentive to write more.

* * *

– chapter ten –

**Deceivers**

_Previously on Transformers Prime: Stardust…_

A bright reddish energy beam cut through the sky –

– and hit the _Ark_'s stern dead center, immediately blowing up what remained of the ship's engines. Jazz and Ironhide stood frozen, staring in disbelief when the explosion raced along the hull until the entire _Ark_ was covered in a huge fireball. A tower of smoke rose heavenward while the ship-turned-fireball quickly lost height. A spark pulse later, whatever remains of the _Ark_ survived the engines' detonation crashed onto the ground, erupting in a second, even bigger explosion.

_And now the conclusion…_

"Sweet Lady Liberty!" Agent Fowler shouted in alarm.

The man's exclamation broke the ban. Jazz ordered Wheeljack, "Safeguard that sword, whatever ya do." Then, not caring about his injuries, he jumped into alt-mode and raced toward the crash site. Out of his peripheral, he noticed Ironhide followed him.

Not far from the crash site, he met the squad he'd taken down to fight off the enemy. They were all headed for the _Ark_'s wreck as well. Jazz immediately opened a comm on all Autobot frequencies and urgently asked, /_**Did anybot get out before the explosion?**_/

Trailbreaker immediately sent back, /_**Sureshot thought he'd seen something but wasn't sure if it was protoforms or fire particles. He took Lightspeed and Windcharger to the projected landing site to investigate.**_/

Jazz mentally nodded to himself, satisfied. At least somebot was thinking ahead.

When he and Ironhide reached the outer edge of the crash site, they stopped and transformed back into bipedal mode. Trailbreaker caught up with them not a moment later. "_**Inferno and Hosehead went in to check out the situation,**_" he explained as soon as the transformation into bipedal mode was complete. "_**If anybot can find the way in the conflagration, it's them.**_"

"_**Indeed,**_" Ironhide agreed.

In that moment, the comm cackled to life. /_**Found two emergency escape pods,**_/ Windcharger sent, /_**with Fireflight and Skydive in stasis.**_/ There was a moment's silence before he added, /_**From the look of it, they look worse for wear but the systems indicate they're stable for the moment.**_/

_So Hoist must have ejected them_, Jazz thought. _On instinct? Or on order? Had Prowl's processors come up with that scenario and he took precautions?_ He tried the command frequency. /_**Jazz ta Prowl, come in.**_/ Next to him, Ironhide sent him a curious look but didn't say what was on his processors, instead waiting what would happen.

The only reply they received was silence, but it wasn't complete. The frequency cackled with static and buzzing noises, and in a rhythm that let Jazz frown. He wasn't a communications expert like Blaster and his symbiotes, but he knew enough about it thanks to his specs and upgrades to be considered a pro by usual standards. And to him the repetitive patterns not only sounded familiar but artificially created. _Could it be that Blaster's still alive ta scramble the frequency?_ he wondered. _But why?_ Not finding an answer to his questions, he once more sent on the command frequency, /_**Prowl, Blaster? If ya can hear me, answer.**_/ But once again there was no verbal response.

However, the frequency briefly upped to a higher tone, with whistles added to the already running rhythm, before dropping back to the lower level. Jazz was now certain that somebot was deliberately distorting the signals – he only didn't know yet who. He knew, however, they wouldn't answer until they were secure.

He turned toward Ironhide. "_**Let's call back Inferno and Hosehead. No bot could have survived those explosions.**_"

Ironhide frowned before his expression turned into a scowl. "_**So you're giving up on them?**_" he hotly demanded.

"_**No,**_" Jazz replied, "_**but we have no other choice but to retreat for now.**_" He jabbed over his shoulder toward the Decepticons' fortress. "_**Staying here is too dangerous. The 'cons'll use us for target practice sooner or later.**_"

The warrior grunted, making it obvious that he agreed with his assessment but didn't like it one bit. "_**So what do you suggest we do now? We do not know this world. We have no place to go.**_"

At the same time, Trailbreaker asked, "_**If you haven't given up on them, you intend to come back, don't you? But how are we going to look for them without Megatron and his ilk noticing?**_"

Forcing a grin onto his faceplate, Jazz pointed at the helicopter that had been following him and Ironhide and was now about to land. Answering both their questions at the same time, he said, "_**We don't. When Inferno and Hosehead come back out, they'll declare everybot lost. We then go with our new allies.**_"

That stunned everybot to silence. "_**What?**_" Flak asked, speaking up for the first time.

The fake grin turned sly. "_**Ah believe somebot took precautions.**_" Because Prowl's processors would have been working overtime with simulations, and there was no way that he wouldn't have factored in the _Nemesis_ shooting down the _Ark_.

Ironhide's grim expression suddenly lit up in epiphany. "_**Shuttles. They must have taken the shuttles.**_"

While Flak looked skeptic, Trailbreaker and everybot else looked up, searching the sky. Other than the pillar of dark gray smoke, there was nothing to be found, however. Jazz met Ironhide's smirk; it seemed to spell out 'invisibility shielding' as clear as a starlit night. The shuttles would never be found, no matter how long you looked, unless the ones inside chose to drop the cloaking.

Jazz relaxed a little in relief. The others were still alive, even though they didn't answer to his hails. He knew, however, that if the bots really were dead, the command frequency wouldn't be cackling with patterned static but be completely silent on the other end. Besides, of course Prowl would see to it that the enemy didn't find out that their supposed killing shot had been ineffective, and the disruptions must be Blaster's handiwork to mislead Soundwave. He had successfully used a similar method in the past. Jazz grinned at the irony; believed offlined yet still kicking warriors were the most valuable weapon Megatron could have handed his enemy.

He switched the command frequency to passively running and even added a noise-filter. He would still be able to hear if something changed without getting distracted by the white noise. Only then did he address the bots surrounding him. "_**Everybot, keep the info that our comrades most likely are still alive off the radio channels. I s'pose they tricked the 'cons inta believin' they're still aboard when the **_**Ark**_** was lit up.**_" The bots surrounding him nodded, some looking determined, the rest skeptic.

He and Ironhide then turned around in time for Agent Fowler to arrive at their position. Flexing his arms enthusiastically, the warrior mumbled, "_**Let's get to it then.**_" Deceiving the Decepticons was his second most-favorite pastime.

Jazz automatically took command. He crouched down to be less intimidating and negotiated with Agent Fowler for a couple of breems, explaining their situation and the plan he'd come up with of how to go forward. Then he listed what they needed for the moment. (Of course, he wouldn't be Prime's ever-charming lieutenant if he didn't know how to sweeten their demands with an attractive offer of assistance in fighting their mutual enemy.)

"Let me make a couple of calls and see what can be arranged," Agent Fowler concluded the discussion and pulled out his cell phone.

It took about three breems for the human to discuss things with his superiors – and the man proved he could be discreet about sensitive information –, but in the end, they had a deal. Jazz immediately rallied up three of the strongest bots and sent them to Wheeljack's position to retrieve both the Wrecker and Prime's sword, Trailbreaker among them; Jazz foresaw that not only his strength but his protective shield too would be invaluable. In the meantime, another squad under Ironhide's command went to recover the two escape pods. As a parting, all were told to follow Jazz's beacon and that they would meet again at the human base.

When turning around, Jazz caught Agent Fowler signaling for the human jets to separate and follow the two teams. "Just in case you guys need assistance," was his defensive explanation when the man noticed Jazz was looking at him, though his guarded tone suggested there was more to it than just succor.

The saboteur's visor brightened at the realization that their two species didn't seem overly different. As a commanding officer, he would have issued the same orders were he in the human's position. He therefore made sure to positively acknowledge the man's decision.

Agent Fowler coughed. "All right, anything else?" he then asked, thus conveniently changing the topic.

Jazz shook his helm. "For the moment we're set. Thanks. Ah'm curious about the hangar ya mentioned. It sounds like a great place ta chill."

The man snorted. "You're the craziest Autobot I've ever met."

"Ah take that as a compliment," Jazz replied, grinning. He liked the human and was looking forward to the alliance.

"Whatever," was the grunted reply. Agent Fowler walked back to his helicopter, got in and quickly powered it up. When the vehicle slowly took off, Jazz transformed and followed, the rest of the Autobots mimicking him.

They didn't want to look like they were running, but in truth they were. The sooner and farther away from the Decepticons they got, the better. Jazz put the pedal to the medal and raced after the helicopter as if Unicron himself was after them. It meant that some of the sturdier built models had their difficulties keeping up with their lighter built comrades, but they overall crossed a fair distance in a relatively short amount of time. Good thing too; when Jazz scanned the area to check on the convoy behind him, a new party registered on his sensors.

Cursing when he recognized the signal, he braked hard and swerved out of the line before transforming, his battle protocols automatically snapping into place, consequently onlining his weapon systems. When the mechs behind him wanted to do the same, he ordered with a fierce snarl, "_**Everybot, keep going!**_" He waited only long enough until the last bot was by, then he dropped back into his alt-mode and followed suit, urging the others to drive even faster. He prayed that Trailbreaker's and Ironhide's teams remained unharmed.

Just when the Decepticon fortress was about to vanish behind the horizon, Jazz's visual sensors picked up the _Tidal Wave_ sinking out of the cloud carpet before coming to hover directly above the ruins of the _Ark_. Another moment later, it opened fire, strafing the _Nemesis_ and Cybertronian construction. A small part of him regretted he couldn't stay to watch the battle between the Decepticons and Star Seekers, but for the most part Jazz was glad about being able to stay out of that firefight.

…

They drove for about a quarter joor until Jazz's sensors picked up the signal of many indigenous life forms. Humans. Perking up, he scanned the area ahead of them; apparently, they were closing in on a human settlement. Even though night had fallen by the time they reached the settlement's outskirts, Jazz made out lots of housings by vision alone. The majority of the dwellings as well as the streets were ablaze with light and in various colors too. What his vision didn't grasp, his sensors picked up more than readily, and he was able to piece together the picture of a large settlement covering quite a large area. It was of course nowhere near comparable with one of Cybertron's cities, yet it somehow seemed to have an air of familiarity around it. Strangely, he was heavily reminded of Centurion, only he couldn't explain why. And if the increasing exclamations of surprise on the main Autobot frequency were anything to go by, he wasn't the only one having this impression.

Before homesickness could mar his spark, he brushed the thoughts and memories aside, instead concentrating again on the transmissions Agent Fowler steadily sent and received – the number of which had only increased once they neared the human settlement. He found it a good practical source to learn about how the human command dynamics worked. Most enlightening was the moment he realized they had in that regard more in common than initially thought.

They passed through the settlement without really driving into it, staying on the well-developed highway. Jazz nonetheless used the time to scan whatever he could. The others apparently did so as well because after only a breem, Pipes asked over the comm, /_**Jazz, do you mind if we scan the local vehicles to better fit in? 'Cause we do stand out right now.**_/ Various voices of approval followed the query.

The answer was easily given. /_**Nope. It's actually a splendid idea, mechs, so have at it.**_/ Jazz then followed his own words and scanned the area in search of a vehicle, couldn't find one that fitted both his specs _and_ taste, though. A 'glance' back at the convoy following him, however, told him most of his comrades found what they were looking for.

Soon enough, the helicopter lost height until it – more or less – lead the convoy over the highway. They were headed toward human constructions enclosed by a high fence. Signs on the road and next to a gate read 'Nellis Air Force Base.' Agent Fowler landed the helicopter in front of the gate and was immediately approached by two men wearing weapons similar to the Autobots' laser rifles, only in a much smaller size of course. Jazz slowed until he came to a halt half a mechanometer away from the helicopter, his comrades following his example.

Agent Fowler got out of the helicopter and spoke with the men for a couple of moments, then, together, all three walked around it, heading for Jazz's position. "Major McKinley, sir, if I may introduce? The Autobots."

"Holy crap!" the younger one of the new men warily exclaimed when he laid eyes on the Autobots for the first time. "A couple look alien all right." He glanced at Agent Fowler. "If you hadn't called in beforehand… well, let's just say you might not have passed with such an entourage."

Agent Fowler was ignoring him, however, instead staring at the convoy with a bewildered expression. "Didn't you guys look… different earlier?" he asked Jazz although he pointed loosely in Pipes' direction.

If Jazz were able to shrug while still in alt-mode, he would have. "We're hardcoded ta fit in," he explained, without missing the momentary pause in the men's breathing when he started speaking. "If ya local vehicles look like that, we'll scan 'em for our uses." He also registered the increased rhythm of the two unknown men's fuel pump.

"I see…" Agent Fowler allowed before shaking his head once. Turning back to his fellow humans, he said, "This is only the first group. Two more will follow, though they're less in numbers."

The man that had yet to say anything – Major McKinley – gave the convoy another look over. It seemed critical, like a commander contemplating his troops. "And you're absolutely certain they're on our side?" he asked Agent Fowler after several moments. "I saw the feed from Jasper. Looked quite dangerous to me."

Agent Fowler nodded. "And they can be, but these guys here fight the same enemy we do. I guess that makes them our ally."

"Point taken," the major replied. He scrutinized Jazz once again, let another glance glide across the convoy, then turned back toward Agent Fowler. "All right, they can come in. Hangar E has been cleared."

"Thanks," Jazz said before Agent Fowler could.

The major threw him another look, this one suspicious. "If you get out of line, rest assured we know how to stop you."

The Autobots behind him responded with growling engines, but Jazz cut them off with a barked, "_**Quiet. I'll handle that.**_" He then transformed, immediately kneeling down to not appear threatening. "Ah give ya mah word that none of my warriors will cause harm to anyone or anything. We appreciate your assistance."

"You're their commander?" the major demanded.

"Until we can reunite with our team already on Earth, yes, Ah command them." Jazz knew he may be the commanding officer for the moment, but he was far from being a true commander. There was a difference and he had to make that clear, even though the humans might not understand.

"Name?"

"The designation's Jazz."

The major nodded brusquely. "Very well, Commander Jazz, you listen carefully: It's not my idea to grant you access to this base. But some people high up are willing to take a risk at an alliance between your faction and us humans. Betray us, and you'll find out that us puny squishies will be able to defend ourselves against your kind."

Narrowing his optics – which the major couldn't see thanks to his visor –, Jazz repeated, "_Nothing_ will come to harm, be it humans or your equipment, shelter included." He had no idea where from the major had the impression he would regard humans as squishies, though he could envision a couple of his Autobots would. He would address that as soon as the other two teams had arrived to suppress such unbecoming behavior right away.

"Then we have a deal." The major turned. "Agent Fowler, I'd appreciate if you could wait here with me until the other two groups you mentioned arrive."

Agent Fowler nodded. "Of course, sir."

Major McKinley then gestured at the soldier. "Corporal, open the gate and take our guests to Hangar E. Tell Lieutenant Finley and Sergeant Walt they have the first shift, then come back here."

The soldier saluted. "Yes sir." He swiftly did as commanded before climbing into a vehicle. Jazz collapsed back into alt-form and followed, the Autobots hot on his tailpipe.


End file.
